Wall of Pines

Heading down the street of pain.

Blood is washed by heavy rain.

Standing under lights are ugly rats.

Dirty tricks are kept under hats.

Smiling faces with ugly teeth.

Spit is glued on hairy feet.

True colors are shown between the lines.

There stands another perfect wall of pines.

Little children play with guns.

Industry’s little obeying nuns.

Profits flow from everything.

Not allowing us to even think.

Green museums are in every town.

Long ago they lost the crown.

Sacrifices are made every day.

Nobody has anything to say.

Belly’s full and mind is numb.

Strongest finger is the thumb.

Happy people enjoy the box.

Throwing at themselves heavy rocks.

Injustice is waiting at the end of line.

Hidden behind the wall of pines.

Little children play with guns.

Industry’s little obeying nuns.

Profits flow from everything.

Not allowing us to even think.