World War 4 will use sticks and stones
World War 3 is waged on homes
Hell rained down on the sick and cold
Villages razed, young and old
We wade knee deep in a sea of filth
Filled with our supremacy
As we hold the poor under
And tell them to breathe
And while I hope and I pray that change is achieved through only peace
It seems the path you've paved for
Is violence indeed
War in the streets

Tell them to speak
When all you hear are claws and teeth
Vilified, because you had what their life denied
Awareness gives the gift of choice
It's your responsibility to use your voice
Staring down the barrel of your rival
I'll never run, I'll be the street's disciple

Connected through our consciousness
That you severed through your arrogance
Gentrify the park bench
Preferring emptiness over homelessness
No safe camp but a concrete slab
Alone and and cold
No home

We hold our breath of purity
Choking those who cannot breathe (already)

Destitution is not disease
No more