What right have they, these gorging toads
Who feast on hope and love and dreams
Who bawl and wail and scream and cry
Who belch their dirty, dirty lies.
What right have they, these smug old men?
They grasp the world with bloodstained hands
They tear apart the things we’ve grown
To raise their twisted hateful throne.
They steal our rights to build their dominance;
Our freedom for their control.
Our bodies become their power
So they may build their hideous tower.
And our ignorance is their scaffold,
Our bitterness is their tool.
And so we give them what they crave.
There is always someone else to blame.
What right have they, these people
Who take things they will never deserve.
Who grow bloated on their filthy wealth
Who rob us of our very selves.