[Kloeppel / Jarvis]
Looking in from the outside,
Each city pukes its wounded forth,
A world that time
forgot,
Along 95 from south to north,
From gray to greener lands,
To exburb, suburb, in-between,
Some choke and some
breathe,
A fact of life in this plutocracy,
As the best of the worst plan our lives,
A mass murder of the spirit cuts the vine
bearing wisdom's fruit,
Brother, wave your trust in faith goodbye,
When it's man against man, the culture consecrates the code of
spite,
So this is the ideal system -
Millions shunned in urban tombs,
Easy for the rich to suffer,
As they smile, wave, and
lock their doors,
Driving away from the failures,
So trivial and so normalized,
Back to their pristine pastures,
To forward
and secure their perfect lives,
This nation blood-bound with its ties,
Gives not a f**k for its children or the toils of their
wasted labor,
Flood pouring gates open wide,
Upon this fiction of a state, and the excess it expels and justifies,
Ghosts in
concrete veils, haunt Katrina's winds,
Gasp, as charcoal air, fills lungs as black as tar
And they drown...