I remember the day
You responded to the damning evidence
Her story has a lot of holes in it, you said
You've heard both sides, I presume
Your gut tells you someone's lying
Yet less than five minutes passed
And all you offered was an opinion piece
dedicated to the god of Progress,
his mistress, Phobia
and their illegitimate offspring,
Science, Data, and Studies
Surely there is a conspiracy
I can feel your worried tone
And that conspiracy must include me
It could not possibly be among the Priests of culture
who risk to lose millions and billions
and trillions to deviancy
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