Poem -

WE PAY THESE PEOPLE

We pay for their shopping trips...

We pay for their fake trials...

We pay for their vacations and traveling expenses...

Bring it unto us...

The rest of you will pay what the dead doesn't pay...

I think we're supposed to be scared?

Let's see all the dead people who will be voting in the future...

​​​​​​I wonder if MJ was singing Smooth Criminal with them in mind...

sparrowsong

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I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME

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SALT IN YOUR SHOES

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