Pushing on graffiti walls

Staring into puddles of mud

Dirt and roots and human piss

Fried dough the food of the populace

Kids cry when moms say eat their peas

How bad can a few cots and cages be

When they grow up they’ll be like you and me

Accustomed to what they sell us dirty food dirt is cheap

The best thing about a rock festival

Might be the bats flying overhead

Always nature gives us guidance

While the Humana spread their dread

The fires that we set they set us back

Everything we meant is gone.

Read the ingredients on that heart attack

Read the writing on

Pissed on graffiti walls

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