Panopticon Ballad
A song heard round the world
The inmates are serving here Sentences, short and long. All are seen, nothing is hidden, In the Panopticon. It entwines all the world within, Both Rome and Babylon. Planets, stars and galaxies are In the Panopticon. Little lives, like ants, are within. Petty and put upon, Glass encased and running races, In the Panopticon. Inmates, free of chains and bonds, mock watchful signs and yawn. How bold would they be if they saw, that high Panopticon? Prison riots erupt at times, Bloodshed as constant as dawn. No peace unless they see the face of the Panopticon. But there are those who see that face, hating it with passion, and they claim tyranny within that high Panopticon. If all men are sealed and watched then they are in a prison, No good, no justice can exist in the Panopticon. The silent and hidden face must lose to revolution, For they do not break the ramparts of the Panopticon. If there is no reward for right, No punishment for wrong? Where, in your invisible life, is the Panopticon? That face never stops its vigil, its sight is never wrong, It watches, governs, and attends from the Panopticon. Jailers there are, with wings and eyes, With a great commission. Guards and guides to convalescents, in the Panopticon. Within it and outside its walls two voices share in song. Joy and praise, penance and pleas rise in the Panopticon. So all the world is enraptured with singing on and on. All souls are seen and known by the God of Panopticon.