The Rich and Insecure

We have used our sweat and tears
To show progress today
Our blood, sweat, and tears
Make us who we are today
This working class of man
Striving for a measly dollar
As it's value everyday
Grows ever so smaller.

Not like those who are wealthy
The rich is what they're called
Although their unhumbled lives
Have nothing truly rich at all.
Their family is fragile, broken
By the men on dollar bills.
Their worries remain unspoken
As they drive prosches in the hills.

We've found a place right here
In a suburbia of sorts
Yes, we've found a place right here
Away from the evils that contort.
This middle land, this haven
Has streched this dollar so far
It'll send the kids to college
And buy us a dog and car.

No, not like those who are wealthy
The insecure is what they're called
They buy every new little toy
Knowing their money will never fall.
To compensate for love
They buy "toys" like bemers and yachts
They're worries remain unseen
As they play with what they've bought.

We made this shelter here
Out of cardboard and paper
We created a shelter here
It's all we could have prayed for
To fall short, of that line
My dollar can't even buy bread
We need something to be fine,
So we can be fed.

No, not like those who are wealthy
The men who are rich and insecure.
They're lives may seem better
But they're minds are so unsure
To spend it all without thought
Of those who are in need.
Shows us they are shallow, and insecure
And visualizes they're immoral greed.

Let the classes of man
Be only guidelines of income
Let these shackles of man
Show us what we come from.
We came here seeking change
Not ignorance, not plight
Let the dollars show our brains
And let equality shine bright