Midnight to midnight we slave away
Twenty four hours for what meager pay
Shackles shift from one to the next
Each one giving at the clock's behest
Years and years paid to corporate profit
Each new year is set to top it
What cost paid by humanity
To feed the top's depravity
Lives lived in lines to die
Ever stop to wonder why?
Hammer in hand with a whip on our backs
So the mighty can pile up their stacks
We wail and wallow in their crumbs
While they manipulate fictional sums
Reprieve will require sacrifice still
More than a strong back, but also will
Production results from your labor's application
Yet you reap through tired supplication
Supply and demand need to reverse
This, capitalism's greatest curse
Meet us with your picket signs
Join us at the voting lines
Only we can reclaim what is right
So our children may be spared the fight
As the world is set to end in fiery disaster
Will you still obey your master?
About the Creator
Tales from a Madman
.. the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the Prince's indefinite decorum.
The Masque of the Red Death
Edgar Allan Poe
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