Paradise lost, then its found
Once the fat pigs get their pound
of flesh, of life, of all you own,
they'll tax your life but not your soul
(although given half a chance they'd probably try)
Its enough to make you cry,
to scream out loud,
that primal scream,
be careful or they'll tax your dreams.
Hungry creatures at the trough,
I don't think they'll ever stop
I don't think they know themselves,
as the eat there way to hell.