City of Miles of interchangeable squares
full of meaningless suits and control freak bulls and bears
obsessive compulsive psychos with designer habits
who drink like fishes and bonk like rabbits
their only meaning is to profit and survive
walking like the living dead willing themselves alive
thinking themselves pretty in a world of funny money
pouring out their emptiness to expendible honey
stocking up on false friendships with sick and fanatical brokers
who ensure their clients stay coked up and end up dead no hopers
these boys live in soul less buildings a reflection of their greed
reflecting self absorption, its self awareness that they need
their cars are fast and shiny, like the women they enjoy
treating every clinging person as a Christmas cracker toy
they have no guile, these baby bankers getting off on destroying men
and smiling at those they wish to stab in the back again and again and again
money runs through their veins and their brains and their balls
making all around them smaller and themselves the biggest fools
not realising they're being squeezed by life, the system and the thrill
seeking selfish fun blindly and the closure and the kill
optioning their worth in life as little more than cash
hedging all their offshore bets before the final crash.
No comments:
Post a Comment