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Tipping Point

May 11, 2020
tags: ,

You hide in your hovel but there’s no where to run
What’s the point of living if you can’t feel the sun
People without hope become people without fear
Do you hear the drums beating they’re getting near
Your purse feels heavy with all of the faery gold
Come morning you have nothing for goods sold
You mock and shame the ones that can save you
Someday you will plead until your face turns blue
When seen in public your virtue you proclaim
You can’t hide the blood, the stains with your game.
Having laughed at those that follow the sky man
Yet for men in white linen you’ve faith in their plan
After living your life as if there is no hereafter
Now at the end either way for you feels a disaster
To stave off that final darkness you’ll pay any cost
You care not what others have suffered and lost
Any sacrifice is worth it, so why should you care
If others lose everything and die alone in despair
Civilization’s a pact with present, future and past
Yet you felt no duty to those before or come last

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