Dangle your hands over our poverty

Though I warn never to wage dissonance

You war for this, what’s nothing honestly

Drink from dirty puddles, coincidence–

Now your hands are nasty, see your shirt stained

I won’t drink this water, now I'm thirsty

Your western remedies, they’ll leave me pained

Let me find my solace in poverty

So watch with me, as your greed dissipates

You're fighting over such a world lonely

Cash’ll become ash, mercy precipitates

Over your muddy eyes, see what’s phony;

Masks myriad, uncovered then you’ll see

What you fought for, only never to be.