Hot War
1.Big words are bland and overdone,
This place abounds in charlatans,
Back off the glass door, everyone,
Because when the time comes, I’m done.
2.This place feels like a beggars’ tree,
Not owned by working honey bees,
But occupied by wannabees
Who spit their venom overseas.
3.Never believe what you are told,
Saviors are only after gold,
The only ones who can grow old
And wage wars which might not be cold.
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