OK

It's a free market to the grave.
A smooth ride
and the candy is sweet, so easy to eat
more and more and more, saliva dripping
from your bulbous jowls
and sliding down your deep tanned necks
and mounded chests
to the pothole of your navel like a second dripping mouth.

It's a free market to the grave.
So very sweet.

It's a free market to the nave
of the church of Jesus the Profit.
The poor can eat crumbs, he cries,
there's more than enough for you and yours and you alone
will be exalted by your bank accounts
and your furs and your cars and your photographs of your flaccid flesh
on tropic beaches.

It's a free market to the grave.
So very soon.

Originally posted to Rikon Snow on Sat Mar 22, 2014 at 06:29 AM PDT.

Also republished by Rebel Songwriters.

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