This country,
sold its soul,
for oil,
and jet-black coal.
We polluted the land
and perverted our rights,
for illusory security,
and cold, dying nights.
Were we not so young,
we might not be forgiven.
But we will not be,
unless we take action.
We watch puppet shows,
elect their prettiest lad or lass,
but they’re all the same–
a hand up their ass.
Then we let the rich
walk across our backs,
trample our faces in mud,
and drown us ‘tween the cracks,
of a system we built,
but they bought and paid for,
what shame we should feel,
despite all our labor.
So much for,
the land of the free,
and home of the brave–
if only we’d see,
that such platitudes fail,
when faced with the truth;
that rich oil barons,
and religion’s uncouth.
Until then I guess,
we’ll all have to accept,
that the rich will get richer,
by snapping our necks.