I had rather,
Lay my head here
On this pile of dirt,
Than to,
Rest it on a plush pillow
That was
Stolen from a bum
On the street
Who can’t
Afford to eat today.
Where are you,
America?
Making your
Millions into billions.
Yea, I see,
That smile on your face,
While day after day
Those that die around you
Are of your own race.
What did you say?
“Buckle those boot straps boy.”
Work for your money,
You know that’s funny,
Our economy is array
And all you can say
Is tough shit.
I have a hypothesis
And it goes like this.
Dwindle your billions
Down to millions,
By helping other people.
Ludicrous huh!
The rich of America
Finds more pride
In their money
Than helping other people.
YOU could have an
ASTONISHING IMPACT
But YOU WONT DO IT!