Fake smiles on plastic lips
Prima facie prima donnas
press play on broken records
cheap words on repeat.

'Beauty' preens on billboard prints
as sundown slicker paints the sky
over 'salt-of-the-earth', white-collared wage-mules
and souls too worse for wear.

So they lie, yes, while they lay
in flesh caskets upon prime real estate tombs;
"I've lived the life," they'd say while peering down
on those who lived just to live.

And the world plays this sad charade
in clockwork symphony every single day
as its asphalt veins pump with diesel fumes in streams
from the steel entourage with their precious cargo.

So press play on broken records
for humdinger proof
your sorrowtide serenade
the grovel & groove.