Black, white or brindle – oh, what do I care
All living together – we breathe the same air
Now old men with money raise protests with cunning
What of the outcome? Down the barrel we stare
Down the barrel we stare yet cannot see a thing
Except for the throng – danger in story they bring
Holding up placards they need not say a word
Their actions speak louder than any word could
Those who have sacrificed – beholden to them
A duty to someone they ne’er give a thought
In times of true need – those same people they sought
But now – they’re considered – not at all – not at all
Into smaller pieces – their memory spalled
sensualism 