except for all the others.

The slow beasts of expediency are slouching and lurching
east of the western sea, waiting for their christos, anointed one to
trot home after the votes are totted and they have rebuilt Rome,
in their dutiful stable, and the dreadful norm can continue

A beautiful ugliness is borne by that country both wide, great
and filled with love, heinous hate, vitriol by the black gallon
will float them along for another four years
and the ears of the young will hear the same old song

sung and strung and run along now,
your vote has been cast, your job is done,
the boardrooms are past caring for the millions
of doves undone in the shanty suburbs of the west

A beautiful ugliness is borne by those who have
a vested interest in the status-quo low down
in the pecking order are your every day horrors,
tragedies, piled high by the human tonne,

we have wars to feed, mouths to disappoint,
eyes to burn out,generations to destroy;
we have waited long and hard for our savior to come
and drag the earth down with us, so that we can run

upon the great gathered wrecks of the world
and plant flags, play kings with the things
we called life, yes, yes
A beautiful ugliness is borne by the west

and right, as in might will be as a loner once said
slouching east, to where the willing assemble
to where all those that still know how to tremble
with fear, or wake in the dread night with burning tear,

stare into the stone dark, turning to a new dawn,
petrified, golden and reborn in one image,
one flag, one rationale, one longing
one understanding, one nation the world over,

will forever be at their mercy, come and see:
where a beautiful ugliness is born.