Ruling Class

Its feeding time now get in line

The masters whip-a-cracking

Steak and wine, time to dine

Cufflinks and all the trappings

The difference there

Between first and last

Leaves no time for chewing

For they must be back

Their noses soot black

Corporate furnaces burning

Onwards they go

The direction unknown

Would they tell if we even got there?

To a puppets throne

Made of our bones

Only greediness ever sits there

So they worked on their chairs

And they were their stairs

They offered steady footing

What they got back

Was darker then black

A tailored suit putting the boot in

They lifted their heads

Saw the kings in their beds

But their own wives and children wailing

It caused a hot breeze

To see families on knees

While stock prices were sent-a-sailing

For what price must they bear?

For whichever heir

Takes the stern a mast

For whomever does steer

Its them that appear

And we will ALWAYS be last