Modern capitalism is a work of art
No more rehashes of class clashes
Between the lords that smell of poshest fart
And we the dorks with duties to dig and die
Today just grins the greater guile of guiltless greed
No need for rods on heads of mobs who won’t nod
No barricades against the hurricanes of renegades
We are misinformed then forged to fight and foam
Against fancy phantoms of fierce though falser foes
To not impair the impetus to their plunder and ploys
Shunned is our focus on their fortune to foreign shores
Where the exploitation of other poor by our own poor
Lets our liars and looters the liberty to lull our lethargy
We like to laugh at China’s kids fabricating cheap toys
That poorer pockets from plumper places are to enjoy
Half-fired workers buying from the hardwired weavers
In our own stores we soon forget what fatigue can feel
And bully the cashier who is too tired and tied to desks
To give the proper change or smile we’re sure they owe
Come a workers’ strike, to them sourly strides our strife
Forgotten is the finance fool that fired the feeding fowl
Can’t we see we are the accomplices to our own shame
We hate rich enemies and we hate the mates of miseries
Whichever way we flip the coin, there is no head nor tail
To a life whose value stands on either side of miser cash