This feels good

I used to think we were all equal in
the fairy tale of the sequel that foretells the prequel.
Just be cool;
That doesn’t work anymore.
When we’re out for blood,
Everyone is keeping score.
But what for?
Because they told you you should?
What would you choose if you did what felt good?
This is the trick to the mastered illusion:
To feel like you’re in on the faded delusion of collusion.
I’m stating facts just for a minute,
 if they’re talking spit you can be sure that you’re in it,
what they said about me, in my absence, to you,
they will say again, but to me, about you-
Here is the difference,
the kicker is this:
I don’t play that bullspit; I call it, but quicker
than they can make their lips form the words.
Those who talk spit, they just look absurd.
I’m telling you this ‘cause when you stand idly by-
When you don’t speak up-
Or even ask why,
Lives are lost without cause; is that how you’d want to die?
Out in the street with a knee in your back, because the man with the badge has to put on an act?
This is the truth:  there’s no reason for violence,
when truth is your proof there’s no excuse for silence.