Post Credits Scene

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Phil Forsyth

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A connoisseur of silence, I lived in the city and the country and the noise is about the same
Gunshots, barking dogs, and industrial machines building or reaping just about anywhere you go
Sirens blur to white noise if you stay stationary long enough o lose all sound in the pouring rain
Given the right night, hooting wildlife paired with sound of crickets in mass can be deafening
I kinda like it when it's all messed up and the thought of control is just not a thing
The processes of adaptation when you're forced out into the world can be a painful therapy
Like when the shy get on stage and sing from the heart of agoraphobic tendencies
Or when someone with a fear of drowning gets up the nerve to sign up for scuba diving
It is with this in mind I live in a country full of bullies like those in my infancy
Inocculating myself to the sheer ass-holery of narcissists who pretend that they can't see
An invented divide between the born in languish culture and the silver spooned born into such luxury
Denying every advantage of the fortunate ones who dare to claim money can't solve anything
While spending more than some small countries on a propaganda war with the suffering
Brainwashing those inclined to brainwashing control from the sociable reinforcement of a philosophy
Built on the comfort of a dream evolved from an acute awareness of the end of things
While I can get my head around it, I still have to live with others who insist it's a post credits scene
I don't mean to judge harsh the understanding of a species in transition to bigger things
Than an extinction level event some seem content to egg on like it's a game of chicken
If there's a way to capitalize on the ignorance of the easily swayed, they'll do it
So unavoidable, the fading of the generations supporting it will one day undo it

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