The American dream is precious, the American dream is pure,
Those that come may prosper, and those that prosper may rule,
By climbing the tree of prosperity, in the land of the free,
Only now the tree has fallen, with no top for me to see,
The only way to bridge the gap is up the magical money tree,
So man created heaven and hell, in the land of the free,
The corporate giants in the heavens, and the masses a fiery sea,
But one could say the masses, are in fact the roots of fallen trees,
Only now the soil is covered by impenetrable titanium sheets,
But hard and deep the little roots dig, with a revolution hidden in plane sight,
Hear the roots battle cry shake the earth as they in unison, prepare to fly.