In Footscray the Tower of Babel
Slowly starts to rise,
As people living on the streets
Sicken, and then start to die.

In Melbourne’s west a monument
Goes up to sloth and greed,
While down below the politicians
Do nothing for those in need.

The rich demand their Icons
False idols to all that’s wrong,
To hurl up in the faces
Of those struggling to carry on.

Idolatry to the wicked
To those who have too much,
A tower of concrete and glass
Hanging o’er those living rough.

But still politicians procrastinate
Reluctant to help the poor,
Though they’ll gladly spend the billions needed
To build a towering eyesore.