Stock piles of batteries and gold
no damn trees
and you can't burn those when you're cold
the hoarders are in charge these days
and the wicked world
reflects their ways
the world was a cornucopia
of delights
self regulating
ocean depths to majestic heights
but the hoarders want
to sew it all up
for a sense of security
false cure for the half filled cup
I'm done buying in
to the dismal myth of scarcity
I'm not going to try
to drag half the world along with me
immediately
I'm smashing into the hoard
I'll get real wild on you
well at least I won't be bored
what
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