Life’s a Computer Game


Drones of the Deranged

Sing to the tune of “Home on the Range”.

Oh give me a drone

that will shuffle my bones,

that will turn my apartment to clay;

where mayhem’s assured,

human life is a turd;

early death is the price you must pay.

Drones of the deranged,

where the fears that I can’t elude prey

on my fraying nerves.

Their trajectory curves

all the way to my family’s mass grave.

Oh give me a zone

to unleash all my drones,

where the dears I will liquidate pray;

where bedlam is sure

and my fingers secure

what my eyes are determined to slay.

Drones of the deranged

where the violence of war’s on display,

where life is absurd–

a remote-controlled bird–

and the spies blow their brothers away.


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