This is a work in progress that was, absurdly enough, started as we walked into Wal-mart and Subway (oh, the Irony) and typed onto my husbands cellphone while ordering dinner one night as we moved. It's still rough, but feedback would be appreciated.
Edited:
And We call it America,
Land of the free
to suffer in silence
for other mens greed.
Your labors are wasted
Your fruits are all torn
and from your hands stolen
in richer mens scorn.
They take all your liberties
Your freedom, your dreams
and pay you a pittance
and laugh as you scream.
Your pleas are all wasted
they fall on deaf ears
to change things to help you,
would "hurt you" they fear.
Free industry must florish
no regulations to speak,
It's industries right,
the Politicos think
Mean while you wither
you suffer, scrape by,
Big business gets bail outs
and gold parachutes to fly.
While the leaders sell votes
They raise up a toast
And drink to their masters
Those industry hosts.
Who pay for elections
and ask for the bills,
To give industry privilage
No matter whose jobs it kills.
They say not to worry,
not to make waves,
while they gorge on the blood
of the little Wage Slaves.
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