Empty Hearts, Empty Minds
You've got so many possessions in your life.
A big yellow Hummer that does eight to the gallon,
cash gas guzzler.
Look at your six bedroom house, hardly a two up, two
down.
Mansion?
You have a wife, blond and busty, who lives off your
credit cards.
Sponging bitch!
All false tits and fake tan.
You belong together.
Like your pink poodles, three grace your four acre
security controlled grounds.
Not a shrub askew or blade of grass out of place.
How much do you pay your team of gardeners?
Minimum wage.
What line of work are you in?
Import/Export.
A bit of white from Columbia and other exotic
substances from further afield.
All illegal.
You go to swinging clubs wearing your two thousand
dollar suit, all real and from Armani.
You don't tell your wife, why should you?
You control your empire of pimps, drugs, hired guns
and many more evil schemes. Strong walls protect your materialistic world, like
your lack of a conscience protects you from honesty and civility.
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