I build their dreams And watch The disintegration Of my own The blowback coats the lips That i press on a cold grave A plot i have paid for in time Stitch my heart onto a time clock Enslave my devotion and shackle me to hollow ideals A spreadsheet for my indenture A smile for every time they spit in my face The poor man's burden Nothing else exists when i'm in this fucking hole An outside world i am not invited into That has forgotten who i am The grass is never greener Things can always burn darker than the dollar bills That flow through the bloated veins of commerce Greed-a plague on our fucking city Control them with financial suffering For it rings tried, tested, and true