The youth sought to forge a utopia,
but suffered a kind of myopia.
They built a grand city,
but the people were shitty.
That's how you make a gleaming dystopia.
A couple went to Victoria Falls
to see its splendor with their own eyeballs,
but when they got near
they squinted and peered
but all they saw was a foggy, gray wall!
The kids struck out for the white sands of Cancun,
but to avoid throngs they went at high noon.
A crowd, there was not.
It was so freakin' hot
that each and every last one of them swooned.
There was a fine singer from Nashville
who couldn't ever get on a show bill.
Others sang of their trucks,
but he drove a Prius.
So, relating through song was a task, uphill.
There was a rich man from Houston
who sought a nice pad to roost in.
He soon found his lair,
and worked right downstairs.
And, thus, felt the ups and downs of Houston.
People penned up without borders
by some hidden social order
wear uniform-less uniforms,
and form a matrix, not a swarm.
What invisible chains bind them?
Where are the minders who mind them?
Is compliance written in our genes --
remnant from ages of Kings and Queens?