what does it matter
whether they come for your money
or they come for your blood
the fact that they come
speaks of a dark heart
they are the takers
they've no wish to share with us
only leaving enough seed behind
to ensure another harvest
our money and blood
the sweat of our brow
they depend on it
they demand our loyalty to their cash
cow
while seeing us as fodder for their
cannons
they thirst ever for more
never satisfied with the hoard
they've already amassed
those who stand in their way
they're expendable
the rich get richer by the day
our cost to live
continually endangered
oh how the plutocrat loves to hold his
third world ransom
that is what we are becoming
we are their stepping stones
and once we are used to cross a river
bringing the takers to greener pastures
we are no longer needed
there will always be more stones
that they can throw into the waters
we are no more than bridge material to
their next fortune
once crossed to be thrown away
they'll not need our bridge a second
time
they never look back and care not
for the rubble they leave behind
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