Lyrics An Anecdote - Capitalist Realism

The promise is gone
New lines are drawn
Starting the process, circling the drain
Force them out, take it back, make something new
Societal cancer, dysmorphic fiend
Holding us back, we want to live
Forced this upon us, we're not the culprits
They are the ones with construed incentives
Outside that door, handouts and gutter
This is your choice, this is your choice
Brought down on you by rich shabby men
Preaching proudly of freedom of expression
How are we to express ourselves between nine to five?
What of us?
Are we to work for the rest of our lives?
For a liberal crusoe ideal
Marching to collapse on feet of clay