I've walked through your town
seeing your dead faces
seeing your dead places.
nothing seems to matter anymore
i'ts all about you.
They spout there garbage from the radio,
and all you hear is franko, franko, franko.
I reach the edge of your town
Seeing the freeway
but hearing nothing.
Advertising forces your hand,
forces you to buy.
They pimp their crap from billboards,
and all you hear is franko, franko, franko
I reach the end of the earth
Standing in the storm
a knife on the wind.
The patriotic fanfare goes on,
Making you cry
They shout there message from the desert
and all you hear is franko, franko, franko
I stand on the cliff face
hating you and your
talentless slime.
why are you so Dependant on the drug
that wont let go
They sell you your soul wrapped up
and you hear is franko, franko franko.
And now I'm gone for good
And your back
where you started.
You cannot break free from you
You have been conditioned
You read this poem, word for word
and all you heard was franko, franko, franko.
Feedback Read what other people have to say about this poem!
Allysandra26: i agree with nasty, this is something special on October 22, 2005 4:40 PM
nastychika: this was so unique! ive neva read anythin like this, its excellent!!! on October 22, 2005 3:36 PM
