I have a question for you.

We walk with such grace,
but choose to run full force.
Slow and steady wins the race,
running runs you off course.

Our greed and fear of failure,
lead us down broken path.
Rushed into choosing which way to go,
nobody knows who's who,
who knows.

Collectively collecting our own debt,
we run our savior out of town.
All bets are off, please make a bet,
and don't tell me I am the clown.

The smell of freedom, it smells like smog,
but I cannot see it over the horizon.
The bitter sweet taste of a pie in your face,
may make you wonder,
is this the right place?

I wish we would realize what we have done,
but we live and feed on denial.
Obese and dead, we live off his bread,
which can be found in any aisle.

Some people tell me, "It happened to the Romans.",
and to them I say, "*******."
I still have faith, I still believe,
so my question is,
do you?