An age of greed
Cuttings costs like admitting defeats
Needing a larger driveway, a more ostentatious ring
Thief is a written word, built from hell
Dressed in a black turtleneck and pressed blue pants
Sharing small glory as he bends your memory bank, stealing more than your notebooks
The gloves were off, dusted room for prints
Bathroom seemed obvious, but no
Your works were sold within the reach of fingerless gloves
He was sorry for dressing you this way, in shades of grey
Our public suggested a fashionable green