by Stuart Edwards

Sad worn out faces from far away places
Head for the cities so well populated
Hoping to carve out a dream of their own
From streets paved with gold now just littered with bones
From big city riots to the rise on the right
Old twisted souls burning holes in the night
Saint sister Kate she just smiles through it all
As she puts on a dress that she wore once before
Don't hate politicians they don't understand
What it's like to be poor when their shoes cost a grand
Zombies of death your just wasting your breath
You'll take one bite of flesh before the banks take the rest
To pay back their debts
To fill in the holes in the streets made of gold

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