When you know you're inferior
its like its branded on your soul
worse still you know its true
everything tells you so
forever third class riders
society is not a bunch of flowers,
it is a bunch of cactus
of course you're going to hate your betters
vilifying them is just one of your armour
its not a sleek cool perfumed saloon
its a stinky old rust bucket, ha!
yes, we feel your pains
semi-illiterate plebs