I hear you speak of betterment
Your goal to serve your fellow man
Yet I fail to see anyone's needs being met but your own
As you rip the aid from their hands
Food, shelter, care: all cordoned off
Because no coin ever crossed your palm?
Your needless hoard is giving way
The weight of your greed, it cannot sustain
I know damning your name
Won't change a thing
Still, I'll cherish the peace
That dreaming of your death brings
Thrones are not built on empathy
But a willful lack thereof
As for those who inherit them
Know that their comforts, gilded and profane
Compound while yours just slip away
Heavy's the gold that adorns your hands
Such that it keeps you from lending one
The fortune of others but a squandered yield
That slipped your calloused grip
Just how do you sleep
When your wealth breeds their want?
It's sickening to ponder
How many peons have knelt before you
All so that you may walk on their backs
Hang them in your head
When there's nothing left to feed on
At least there's always you
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
