Splinters from Your Mother's Spine

He that loveth father or mother more than us is not worthy of us!
 We will impose universal and unconditional love,
 so as to shatter the pillars of the past and
 let the very idea of family glide into oblivion.
 We will feed your children and turn your beds into a cold place;
 there shall be no retreat,
 no shelter from the great movement of History.
 ♪
 We shall uproot you and make you live in hundreds of
 sprawling Babylons and forget the
 smell of humus and the ways of yore.
 ♪
 Your children will wear necklaces made of splinters from their
 mother's spines as they turn on their
 ♪
 parents, accused of subversion and weakness.
 ♪
 They shall crave for rigid control and overthrow the ruler whose hits
 are not harsh enough,
 they shall worship at the altar of their bruises.
 As the next step in the ladder of our evolution,
 they come to us unrepentantly and demand to be freed from their
 ineffectual selves,
 from the barrenness and anxieties of individual life.
 ♪
 They shall be provided with comfort to the point that they'd rather
 be raked over glowing coals than to
 ever face their gaping inner voids again.
 ♪
 The chief passion, the utmost demand of the frustrated is to belong
 and there is never too much cementing or
 binding to satisfy this howling passion.