Hand Me Complaints Please - Reversal Of Man

At a desk with pen in hand, your guts spilled for profit

A product through your motives through experience

Of self worth the benefit of another

You and your popular politics, popular mechanics of a class war

Don’t call me a politician

I do not lie

Poverty is only the balance of wealth

You do not know me

Because you will never know me

And you shun me

Stab me, stab me repeatedly

My eyes are falling out

And they are replaced with

And they are replaced with

Black marbles

And now I am you

Now I am you