Paper Shackles

At a point of introspection,

Reviewing all of my mistakes

Seeing the twisted connection

and the lack of any escape

A slave to the system since birth,

my shackles are made of paper

But the paper comes from the earth

Why do I feel so in danger

Yes, I made a costly blunder

Freedom comes from self-exertion

Regardless, they will plunder

Due to their greedy perversion

Even when debt is fully paid,

All my hard-work will be for naught

For all the money that I’d made,

Will only make me rich in thought
We’re all living payday to payday

To pay for the past or hereafter

Never fully living today

Kneel to the dollar, your master