One of the Last songs recorded. Played only a couple of times.

In these times of                                  Well, rampant syrupy indulgence  
All that can be gained                          Converted or maintained
Corrupt by the buyer                           An honest hard luck liar
Treated to a treaty                               Exempting all the needy
We feed the belly of denial                  So ravenous and vile
Turning to coal and stone                   With nothing to atone
What a sad, sad song                           A pretentious afterthought of chrome 
Can’t stand this
Something broke with the evolution chain
With each generation we still end up the same
Is there anything that can be done at all
Will anyone hear and heed this distress call
Looking around, a sullen view             What a feeble fickle crew
Does that tattoo make you cool?         And the other shit you do?
Perched from high a limb                    This planet’s getting dim
Take the drugs to be unique                A degenerate little freak
Never stop to realize                           You feed the cycle every time
Playing right into the hands                 Of cooperate Mr. Man
Yep that’s a rebel                                 A real individual
Laugh out loud
….{chorus}
Not for a second did a flinch of hope scurry through the cracks of despair
To settle the shaking nerves that quake with fumbling friction
To agitate the issues that plague mankind but we can’t get past all the gossip,
Hate, prejudice, and vanity to emphasize anything substantial 
So don’t tell me to be calm. I’ve been calm for too long.
Now is the time for vocal action. I will not falter.  

With nothing to expect                        A political wreck
Winning nothing in war                       What’s this shit for?
Oh yeah I forgot                                  The caveman have to fight
An innate trait                                      Such pathetic little things
If blood must be shed                          Make the waters red
Spill it all I say                                     All are sinners, all must pay
Maybe I’m a hypocrite                         Maybe I don’t give a shit
….{chorus} 
Call me crazy, call me god                Someone must accept the job
I come only to announce                  This world is words I can’t pronounce
But they mean devastating, unjust, blasphemous, belligerent, greedy, overrated, and pointless
Thank you and good night


Warning! Panic!

Original Granny Green Members: Michael Wade Johnson on Vocals, Matt Smith on Drums, Robby "Turtle" Minix on Guitar, Clay on Bass. 