To live within a paradox, a superpower on its knees.

Only when the mute king says so, will the money grow on trees.

The price of peace is bloodshed from the ones amidst violence,

And when the flag is folded, hear the screaming of the silence.

The swiftness of bureaucracy, when your money’s what they spend.

The complex and simple budget of a war that doesn’t end.

Homes of excess luxury still claim to be oppressed.

While those who dawn their work boots, can not afford to rest.

A peaceful protest march can leave businesses in flames.

The mastermind’s a simpleton, that likes to fog our brains.