Costume

Hey there rich

Costume Sticks of gold isnt enough for you to see the pitch

Saten stories written through generations of pain so stop the grip

Lips puckered up like camouflage surroundings that we trust but they dont fit

Im kicking dust...

For who ever feels the urge to fuss

Treachery stains that seem to leave the gains

Under the conditions of others pain and

Misery

The luck

Trust the process they said

Topless drops of objects flowing in their head

With

popping tops of beer mislead

The Ideas

Enough said

pledge the money that you get burns into a mist

A list of twisted people that society may feel to kiss

Sharing the same experiences but the rich isnt the truth to miss

Ditched old plans til the world blows up in a split

Covid had a list

Of course

Leaving me with empty feelings

Of all the hungry people you claim isnt worth

The United states of pain fighting to get on this turf

Draining my money to fufill a killed animals mane or

Stepping on the remains of a hungry child you inhumane

God has you

Doing the same thing once again

But the less is called insane

Teach me how to be like you

Lie and loot,

count us out to make us mute

Think of us as less, trash us down the shoot

Or

Better yet the people that you shoot

Wait, wait

thats a different story too