dark places bear dark thoughts

Oh how I dare to be the words that breed conspiracy

The church of poverty consecrating the host of their parasite

Sweet sweet irony radiating through the rotten dog-tooth masonry

Beat you to a bloody pulp, to get my unemployment benefit

Working for a living, even if I take your life instead

 

So it may come to your surprise

That my death is as worthless as my life

Maybe drop some cents on me wishing well

Begging and choosing is all I do before the market rings the closing bell

All bets are off, flameforests is all that’s left

What a rush, what a golden theft

 

Pumpguns to their head, an act of freedom to be oppressed

The rifts are closing to the center, the rifts are closing to the center

Bodies dragged to be shared and dismembered, I come to the conclusion that communism probably found it’s purest contender

The art of making trillions out of billions

 

Flip the pyramid upside-down so it can finally trickle down, let it all trickle down

 

 

 

 

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