Drugs

Drugs

Everyone in this place
Must be on drugs
How else could they 
 Stand these indignities

Only this accounts
For the lack of love
Feelings must be
Encased daily

Every day a man
begs for bread
In a car of people
Well-dressed, well-fed

Not a single person
Crosses his palm
He's us and we
Can't give a damn

Everyone escapes
High on themselves
Too tired to confront
This vicious reality

It's in and out
Of our hands
Lost in mirrors
Ending madly