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Outside your gated homes, |
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The world begins where your street ends, |
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Yet in time, your demons will come crawling back, |
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Praise God for what you have in life, |
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For your wealth is as hollow as the heart you hold inside. |
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A nightmare in three dimensions, |
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This opulence embraced by man, |
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Reapers of the peasant's harvest, |
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Gorging on the fat of the land, |
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Caged in worldly mansions, |
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Picking vassals out from the poor, |
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Worship at the altar of avarice, |
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Where Bourgeois man is born, |
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As dead men walking spoiled earth, |
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Who spend their shining coffers dry, |
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With thirst never quenched nor quelled, |
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...You ever think to question "why"? |
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Outside your window of comfort, |
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It's like night of the living dead, |
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For each dime you bleed from another, |
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The stench of your poverty spreads, |
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Defining the world in equations, |
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Commodity prices and fees, |
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You see other humans as cattle, |
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To service the gluttonous beast, |
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A werewolf's banquet, |
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Of ostentatious parody, |
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Masquerading fortunes, |
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Amassed through servility, |
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As you eat them alive... now meet your slaves, |
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Gomorrah caving in, on your precious homes, |
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Four walls falling fast... |
