I am Progress, a dealer in hope
Pushing techno-salvation as dope
I’m a Star Trek movie; a Jetson cartoon
A science fiction novel; a hot air balloon
Bloated with images floated across your mind
Enticing you with thoughts of a future divine
Massaging the message, tailored to your ears
Keeping you dreaming, playing on your fears
Resistance is futile, I am the page and the pen
The narrative written from beginning to end
Indulge without worry, wash, rinse and repeat
Till you think no more, a slave to the beat
I am the owner, you have been bought
I will direct you, no need for thought
Onward and upward the clarion call
A deranged chorus, deceiving you all
Forget Mother Earth, animals and sod
Who needs nature when Progress is God