We are all part of "the system" to a greater or lesser extent, and it's a system that is...um...systemic. It permeates our very psyches and we largely live as it unthinkingly and destructively dictates.
There's angels dancing on the heads of pins
while the reaper cleans off his blade
and the tired silhouettes of stale cliches
slip past our lips in peasant's praise.
Don't break down and don't give up
as long as breathing fills your beggars cup.
All black stains of gods flushed from the skies
sunken shadows with dead newsprint eyes
greet the advent of dawn with despair...
every bridge closed for repairs.
There's a game being bet upon
and we're too busy playing it.
There a lie we're not hearing
as we're all busy saying it.
There are graves being dug to be filled
with the ashes of our failed wills.
And the endless dance of futility
cycles on and on through eternity.