Nickles, Dimes and Famineland

Poor man wrapped up in coats attracts the pigeons,
a spy who can't tell if he likes the attention.
gone down ol' dusty with a nervous smile and a
jangle of all the money he owns, and a vile
bunch clumps together to shout a whole
lotta nothin' worth shouting (at a loud volume).

tough ol' leaning tower takes a shower when
it's time, on nickles, dimes, famineland and
those who were robbed blind.
that clock ticks it's egotistical click and
snitches and steals more than it can lick.
you don't own this land and that,
and there's no name over our heads,
for territory and that just happens to be
were i sat.

the longer we don't evolve and grow,
the more fungus will show.
and we be talking. under the only streetlight
for miles. and you know what? its better being
nice than all the time be right.

chooka blanko sedative go down up and towns
be vacating, man stupifies the rights and oge,
just feelin' important, mind your buisness.
and il smile at you, and il mean it.
and you'l think im your enemy.

mankind don't get my forgiveness nor my sorrow,
nor do i wage war, for those who think thats fighting
talk. and for those whose jobs it is to outline bodies
with chalk, your stick of chalk ain't real, and my
condolences go to your imagination.
"retractions, dan 3:16"