A man on the floor
3 cops beating him to d**h
Words beating up cause they are sour
So that's why I am deft
I am not totally mad
Sometimes I am just sad
I'd rather think clearly
About all this insanity
In our streets like an ordinary day
I really want to get away
That is what they call freeze up
My life is crashing down at the bus stop
My saccharine has turned straight
Into a never-ending sour taste
Seeing you from my main doorstep
I felt your heartless chest fuelled with another waste
If a shred of humanity gets connect with your brain
You'll get insane as bad as the father you have sent to jail
As long as you exercise that poisoning force field
Safe and sound will only be your f**ing shield
Licking chops at your forthcoming wage increase
As you know about s**ing up to your upper chief
Your moves based-on what we may call the avarice
Will never consist of the understanding of your motif