The Dance Of PovertyThe dance of poverty woe,
(Oh the cold);
the dance that sorrow knows
...at each and every one us.
We starve, we pain, we weep
we reify the woes we keep.
Within our chest, which beats-
lies a forgotten heart that bleeds,
to the rhythm of the broken drum
Beat the drum, kick it, tell it "it is worthless"
and forget it.
The drum will lie there in the streets regardless;
abandoned for the world to see.
It is the tragic tale of system abuse
It is a dance eternal;
It is a forbidden ritual;
It is a tale of life and death;
It is poverty...
now forget it.