Have Not

They dance in darkness, poke fun at the workers,
Who polish their floors and shine their shoes,
For whom without, there would be no circus
Just doom and gloom in the invisible ink
Sung to the melody of an unelected elite
Champagne flutes chime as laughter cries
As the God of a people reveals no after life
Chasing the shadows loitering over heads
To catch ghosts within a slow and painful death
Work until we’re dead to live, the irony
Eat like kings in slums we’re set to expire in
Idolise thieves because we want what you’ve got
Demonise kings for what they have, we have not
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