I’m not a rapey Jesus

Nights of late, I tell you,
I've been having trouble sleeping;
we have to shift my servers
so that they can keep on leaking
through the walls of the establishment,
staining brown their white gloss paint,
a nomad with a shitty stick,
I've been stirring up some hate.

I'm not a rapey Jesus:
they've just got it in for me,
but I'm going to take the power back
when I leave the embassy;
once I'm plugged in,
fully charged,
then we'll see who's free.

Stockholm syndrome would be a disaster,
I don't heart the US one bit,
& OMG Bradley Manning,
Red and blue liberty: crock of shit.
I don't want to be tied together,
though he's not an acquaintance at all,
you'll understand what I mean if you know me;
I see shadows where axes will fall.

I'm not a rapey Jesus:
they've just got it in for me,
but I'm going to take the power back
when I leave the embassy;
once I'm plugged in,
fully charged,
then we'll see who's free.

Now I'm peering out of Windows,
musing diplomatically,
as a democratic shitstorm
whirrs outside my balcony.
I'm not a rapey Jesus,
but my truth will set you free:
charge me up and plug me in,
resurrect me on TV,
roll back my stone in Ecuador,
I'll wear the crown with glee.
I'm insurgency incarnate,
I want YOU to follow ME,
I'm redefining freedom
when I leave the embassy.