They

They?re prowling the streets, the bars, my living room,
Concealed in gild, red plush and fur.
They're infecting our minds but treat the Weltschmerz successfully
With instant lobotomies and catchy tunes.
They say they?re they but technically us,
Just made somehow more functional and kinder to sight.
They say they?d do it all for us if we just sit and enjoy
For they?re trained professionals, they positively know.
They?re they with theirs in their distant there
Minding our business. Do we care?
They?re they, they?re here, they?re hiding within me.
They have style, they understand, they?re so fucking cool...
They?re all over me now - I?m nailed to my bed.
Reduced to a breathing bowels, digesting what they feed me with.
Lying placidly, appeased, enchanted by the gaudy light.
I stare forever at their faces, numb?s the substance, numb?s the mind...