It's not in spite of me
It's because of me
Sweet poverty
The slums of liberty
Should I wait to breathe
Or should I hold my breath
Is this oxygen
Worth more than me?
I have a name you know
A feigned whore's goal
To sell my misery
To and for sweet liberty
Mother nature knows
Just where her glory goes
This precious air I breathe
She made it for me
She's not your glory hole
She has no whore's goal
She breathes your empathy
Justice is liberty
Your minds will rot out
Of your shining scull
The wind will begin to blow
For whom the bell tolls
And you will fall