To be alive is a crime
If you are yet to be punished
To be dead without crime in a mortal coil

Satirical Steinways, we were free ***** on piano toil
Writs, bills, frights in the proceeds going to poverished oracles
Impoverished by the diligent working class for the polity

Living in the city, politics putting us in the governed cells
Freedom loves, seek the whole motivated world on shiny stakes
Start stamping your immigration papers or work in the metallurgical

The humor of passionate egalitarians, everything is equal that sells
The drunken man sells his words in dollars, crumpled heaps, Schopenhauer on the doorsteps
Looking at the rabble with a thin eye and searches
Through thick and thin
Through fat and skinny
Through shallow and deep
Through jejune and adult
To be dead is a life worth living