Spy Wear And Tear.

Not a thing escapes
the electronic eye.
The cameras on old crossroad posts,
the satellites in the sky.
The Akashic record data cloud
that snaps and traps it all,
when you sneak a cigarette
or piss behind a wall.
Not long ago; yet light years passed,
we'd get up to no good.
Smoke weed behind the bike shed,
frolic naked in the wood.
Flick the bird behind a Copper,
paint 'the team' name on a train.
Stupid, lousy things we did,
before the electric brain.
Now we scan the edge of buildings,
watch above for listening drones.
Make our P's and Q's PC prose;
phobia de microphones.
Liberte! Egalitere!
La Utopia absurde!
Caged in constant observation.
Ever seen and ever heard.