A birds eye view
A World torn askew
Through smog
Through smoke
It makes me choke
But I still see
Muzzle flash lights the way for me
Splattered red
Bodies dead
Oil’s green
Runs the machine
Its gears turn well
Sell, sell, sell
Buy, buy, buy
Hold a lie
Drastic plastic
Building caskets
Feel the need
Feed the greed
Start a new seed
Rinse and repeat
They keep it discrete