Submerged heads in a country that's on house arrest-
One percent above the waters to tell us what's best-
But we can't hear you from down below-
We've adapted, grown gills to suit the downstream flow of ****.

The pressure is intense, but that's ok-
I'd rather be with ones like me who have no plans to stay-
Some of us are building a breathing apparatus-
To help us rise in social status-

Filtering out the noise and protecting from the raining acid Benjamins
That pollute your corrupted lungs-
Medieval, I know, but there is strength in numbers
Compiling low funds.

It adds up
We rise up
Flooded bells are ringing-
The things you can't hear are usually the loudest,
We're screaming
Like choirs underwater producing bubbles of promotion
That rise to the surface amidst the commotion.