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What we've got is an amalgam of spent ideals, |
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an incomprehensible mismatch of spent ideals. |
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Self-congratulatory edicts spit from gold-plated mouths, |
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that will never understand what it means to miss a meal. |
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Don't tell me what I need until you've needed anything. |
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Private-school anarchists with bought trains of thought, |
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donned in T-shirts screaming slogans of wars never fought. |
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And I'm supposed to hide my change? |
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For who and for what? |
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To appease the piss-ants pretending their haves are have-nots? |
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I know what you came out here for. |
