June 19, 2017
Everywhere we look someone's fightin' a war,
Usually the rich vs the poor.
Between those who want and those who need.
Between those whose hands are bloody and those whose hearts bleed.
So they make us want the same as them.
Soon we want to be just like them.
Soon we'll see our well's not deep like theirs,
And realize our fears that
As much as we need what we want,
We really ought to want what we need.
But even that is out of reach.
Reality hits, and we see how we've been played.
So we inquire, and beseech, and complain.
But from a truthful response they refrain.
Don't play with our dignity.
Overstand our pride, don't hide.
If you're giving, don't give what you wouldn't have.
Substandard is no standard.
You want my vote, but you don't want my life?
So every four years I must ink my finger,
While the rest of the time you're peddlin' strife?
Everywhere we look rich vs poor finds a stage,
Telling the tale of the people's rage, as they cry
Murderer! Blood is on your shoulder!
Is this a claim you can deny?
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