Are crack babies born to addiction,
a result of love's contradiction?
And what reality rules your life,
a happy home with husband or wife?
Is it cottages, cars and riches,
or parks, alleys, gutters and ditches?
And politicians who woe your vote,
then spend your taxes on trips and boats.
The rich preach about helping the poor,
yet hoard the keys that lock every door.
And a con hears voices in his head,
to fleece the crowd that's pushed to be lead.
A destitute voice carries no weight,
pride is the first feeling to vacate.
And they won’t survive this world of greed,
where the starving die and wealthy feed.
We unashamedly embrace hate,
in our hurry to exterminate.
And when people die as human bomb,
doesn't that indicate something's wrong?