Sparkling empire of poor tyrants
Already bankrupt but poised to strike
Still poverty never left them, though they sing praises
Of your richness dear sirs, and miss
Amidst this you find no balance
None to grasp in cruel illusion
Yet you make do where due is brushed aside like dew from prior nights
On workers feet
Sour cheeks will heed this warning
You taste change, watch the dollar
Canada and US exchange rate is on par
But if you paid your debts, so much farther
For below the gun strap on your belt lies the beast within your pockets
Who has far before now chewed the whole that eats your planet
Too bad that these games are the keys you seek to find
Too bad that these days might show their true color paler than the make up
Civilizations built on falsehoods taken up by lives with their life
Perhaps freedom is deserved by even them to find
Modern Beggars