Ever Fell Foul Of Your Own Conscientious Consumer Choices? Poem by Dan Reynolds

How many heroes have to kick their clogs
and have their loving legacies so squeezed
by vultures seeking, slack back-catalogues,
before the sad deceased appears diseased.

The fury of furores for the buck,
as each one who inspired us takes their leave,
can never sate the ones who give af uck.
The ones who truly mourn, who truly grieve.

Interment of an icon cannot pass
without commercial interest and greed.
A market, blackened swiftly as en masse
the dead, though cold, can still be made to bleed.

The true fan forfeits kudos, and their sins can't be atoned
when blindly buying bull$hit which the artist had disowned.