Everywhere I go,
No matter the pull I tread low'
Low beneath the underpass and gutter
Filled with slime grime and clutter
Of mind
Of rats
And delinquents not men
Let loose in a remote controlled pen
Freer are pigs and caged little hens
We don't know we chase
An unquenchable thirst
And blindly can't see the fishing wire
That it's dangled from in front of our faces.