Have you ever stopped mid-stride
And caught yourself looking out at the world
Silently asking what this crazy place is all about
And how so many people
Pass on through
Leaping onto the next subway ride
To go into some crammed cubicle or dreary office space.
Does it puzzle you too,
That so many people wilfully float with the stream
And convince themselves that they are helping humanity by pulling on a blazer and slipping into a pair of polished shoes
That selling shares and following stock markets is more than a mere pawn game
‘Cause sometimes I stop and wonder how so many hands are put to silly typewriting and selling deals for things that no one needs
Just to keep the money circulating,
Just to keep the buildings busy.
It’s not about the people or equal distribution
But it’s been happening this way for so long,
And some people are cashing in,
Those people are at the top of the board,
So the system will keep pumping out more starved men and lost souls
for as long as the printing machines keep churning out more green and gold.
I cannot help it, that to see such needless plights, sometimes stops me in my tracks
In the middle of crowded streets at all hours of the day,
There are so many faces so determined to keep on fleet,
No time to stop and wonder, nor question where they are, no time for mischeavous fun, or to stick it to the man
Caught up in feeding the system,
And the fear of losing the illusion of the upper hand,
That the beauty of their surroundings,
The friendships and the losses,
The sumptuous feasts and crisp clean clothes
are passed off as given pieces of the beast.
So if such luxuries are unacknowldged how about those sitting by the road, or the kids being cornered in that laneway over a stolen chocolate bar,
For the greatest crimes of the world are passed through a suited up, clean shaven feeding chain