Citizens everyone of us
Future of business in the class
Passionless, as I pass into the middle class
Fall in line with all the rest

Boss said its time too get paid
Ghost say its best to learn a trade
Make a nest and live as a slave
Only alternative is an early grave

Citizens everyone of us
Irons and gears in our rust
Leaders that make the devil blush
Under foot the meek feel the crush

Decay on the highrises death before our irises
Ashes make me say less make me feel blessed
Blindsided by the crash burning up to fix it
Strings of violence chasing after finances

Small towns raised from dirt left to the curb
Suburbs running from filth is what I deserve
Moneys the only master left to serve
Reach out and grab it if you got the nerve