As I struggle for control
the voices  start to grab a hold
daily forcing me to be
something that I just can't be

a violent act, compassionless
left  dying on the street
lying in a pool of blood
ripe for news TV

talking heads relay the tale
ramp up fear  increasing sales
all the while those at the top
pray to god, that it won't stop

For profits are  the result
of their plan to wipe us out
weaken the middle everyday
till only serfs remain to pay.