I can’t believe the things you say. The ultimate in vanity. Seeking no truth, winning is all. Hidden deep animosity, so deceiving. Lady justice has been raped, truth assassin. Those are pretty powerful lyrics (admittedly out of sequence here), complemented with some heavy chords around Hetfield’s rumbly vox. I found it shocking that Trump would cover Metallica’s old song, but maybe I found a common link with the conman after all. In his jaded view of Biden’s presidency, had the former guy found inspiration in old school headbangers ball bands? Beats the hell out of the Village People, which is kind of what you’d expect from the homophobic GOP these days.
And yet again I was left disappointed. He didn’t pay homage to Metallica. He didn’t even rip them off like he does with most musicians. Trump’s latest musical abomination dropped the “…And” and went downhill from there. Not since my worthless Trump U degree led me to a menial job in construction have I felt so let down by this harvester of sorrow. Deep down inside I feel to scream…
The J6 Prison Choir and their master of puppets show no remorse, feel they’re holier than thou, act as if each anarchist drew the shortest straw and now the world is gone and nothing else matters. These disposable heroes put out a pathetic “anthem” as forgettable as Ayn Rand’s work of that same name. Simply put, it’s the thing that should not be. Musical quality may be in the eye of the beholder (or ear), but it’s like pulling teeth to listen to. You know it’s sad but true.
Justice is lost, justice is raped, justice is gone sound like lines from Trump’s bitter post-indictment speech. Throw in a few typos and it could be a Truth post from the phantom lord. It takes some kind of monster to entreat his followers to jump in the fire, fight fire with fire, and seek and destroy all who dare disagree. But violent use brings violent plans. Where’s your crown of barbed wire, King Nothing? This martyr will escape unscathed. He’ll never ride the lightning for the crime against humanity that he is, though he’ll profit from the frantic fans that get whiplash following his chaotic disorders. If it’s a witch hunt, you must burn!
What’s next, a retread of Don’t Tread on Me? I know I’m only wasting my hate. To live is to die a creeping death. My world will fade to black and time marches on, while my friend of misery, this bitter man he is, will still persist, twisting, turning, through the never. Please, shoot me. Then shoot me again. I’m at the frayed ends of sanity. Just what is truth? I cannot tell. Just leave me alone.
[Sorry for the dark tone of this post. But these guys aren’t known for their happy songs. How many Metallica references did you catch?]
Traipse Reports - Trips and Races 