Neon lights; they're taking away my rights,
advertising so bright, only capitalism in sight.
Slaving away, to make ends meet each day,
creditors barely at bay, with the same thing they always say:
"You're indebted to us,
we manipulated your trust,
and now we own you; head, feet and bust,
but it's your life and wallet that we lust."
Constant bills, money has lost all of it's thrills,
no heat; you freeze and chill, then starving; being poor kills.
Yet still it seems so, they think you have the money to blow,
on the pointless things for show,
or on knowledge you will never know.
So tell me when will it stop?
When will the prices drop?
The well's dry and farms lack the crop,
the economy is doomed to flop.
From the advertisers, the supersizers,
the colonizers, the demonetizers.
Going to pray, that I survive another day,
to light a candle to show the way, but for the light I have to pay.
Now it seems to me, that Heaven is meant for the wealthy,
and our lives; a shopping spree, in this Hell we get for free.
So tell me how long will it be,
until Jesus' sandals are Nike,
and his **** cloth is Gucci,
and they trademark the word "Holy."
So tell me how long will it be,
until Jesus' sandals are Nike,
and his **** cloth is Gucci,
and praying will cost a service fee.