The rich will fall,
and the truth with reign.
I feel sorry,
for their diluted,
convoluted,
educated,
inebriated,
meaninglessness
they draw
from the unholy
dollar.

They won't know
what it means
to be real.

They can't know
what it means
to be real.

They chase the imaginary,
a false sense of security,
invested in some paper
and ink.

They forsake the
beauty
and
joy
of existence

for the nothingness of
nothing.

and they will fall.

And cancer will burn a hole in
their lung and it will be
tragic because
the loved ones that
were never there
are not
there now.

And all the king's horses,
and all the king's men,
couldn't put their life,
back together again.