From the top you can savor the filth as far as the eye can see
At the bottom forced to taste it and breathe it, blinded though you be
In the precarious middle, balanced on the slippery slope
Snapping teeth below, blood drained from hate confused with hope
Days gone by with endless promise stolen quiet
Silence such as this is hard to bear, your heart demands to riot
Who can speak for you against the dread hitched on your back
Who can see through lies and promises disguising their attack
Born into the bondage of Mammon’s filthy straitjacket
Indispensable their monopoly strangles with its racket
Are we sliding down the hill or crawling grimly higher, just a little?
Judgement paralyzed parlous we pray for our acquittal.