I keep writing, connecting the rhymes like electric wiring

Wondering if anyone will read through this pile of garbage or if it's too tiring

And no I ain't gonna be inspiring, I haven't got the age for it nor the mood for the time being

Haven't even went out for sight-seeing, wanted to be a star

But haven't saw one since the last lightning

They are all tired of all this angst, they prefer tunes to dance

But I am just a mirror of the world, showing what we built from our hands

Looking at the dark side so that it doesn't go out of sight

There's a lot of things to do to save the world, but no one understands

They all work for the paper, the dough, care only about 50 grands and famous brands

Well good luck now, closed are all your stadiums and stands so go

Upon the LAN, quarantine yourselves and wash your hands

This is the fall of capitalism, unless the cure is free and upon our hands