Beau - Soldiers Of Fortune lyrics

Like soldiers of fortune, they come from the East, Their status encased in a Mercedes Beast. And, little by little, they pick at the feast As into the valley they dream, Where the poor find it harder to scream. Prospectors all, out in search of a strike Being carried along on an energy spike, You could say to a man they know what it's like To swirl in a poverty mist And why the poor find it hard to resist. They prospect for gold in the bile-bitter stones. They rattle the windows and gnaw at the bones, And, oh, how they flourish their cellular 'phones In the mire where miseries seethe, Where the poor find it harder to breathe. I never have known whether blood is being spilt, Whether all of their j**ellery's golden or gilt, But I want no part of the empires built On a patch with a permanent seep And where the poor find it harder to sleep. A call to the weak that so easy beguiles; A twitch to enrich their malevolent smiles; A careless display of their flamboyant styles; Samaritans all pa** you by Where the poor find it easier to die. Like soldiers of fortune, they come from the East, Their status encased in a Mercedes Beast. And, little by little, they pick at the feast As into the valley they dream, Where the poor find it harder to scream.