The ground glittered with littered plastic
Houses shrank as time passed
Land became trash
The people were cut into two
One side giving money to build new, pretty communities
Trying to save the face of their dying cities
The others grew tired of rising above
The hot sun and dirt packed them into adobe clay victims
Almost frozen in time
Vesuvius had risen again in this southern land
Maybe the people who kept trying were just too proud
They never admitted how they benefited from enslaving those who understood there was no hope
The ones close to the ground realized there was no escaping hell
Better to ruin and ignore their homes
Because soon enough there would be nothing more but rubble
The hills are sparkling
Death and decay originated in their backyards
All that's left is destroy everything in their wake
In hopes of building from the ground up once again
All look up to the same sky waiting for the day they're kissed by the gods
Most have only seen satan come out to play
They'll continue to pray and pray
Either that or an early visit to the cemetery
Some say soon it'll all end, but are they speaking of the lands poverty or their own lineage