Forward one, back two, forward one,
back two
A turtle's toil, progress is a distant memory
The collapse of civilizations,
we struggle to struggle
Fortitude bends like willow branches;
encampment of silenced voices

Encumbered by greed-swine
sitting in high places savagely
devouring tax-*****
Their everyday grinding
flesh and bone into greed-blenders

We look at each other, shrug our shoulders,
do giddy little side glances, lower them
And just say, " another day, just another day."