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Primitive Man
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Inevitable
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
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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
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