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In dim rooms justice is discussed
to the melody of trains
with merried destinations.
Outside poverty plagues the streets
cities crumble
as does the man
sleeping beneath the daily news.

In dim rooms justice is discussed
to the melody of trains
with merried destinations.
Outside poverty plagues the streets
cities crumble
as does the man
sleeping beneath the daily news.

I see through a distorted looking glass
it is not distorted
you are only a man
with a suit and telescope
unaware of lost identity.

America is a broken dream
only a few posess the handful
of shards.

Pick your cotton
your grapes
your apples
find Route 66
find the poverty you have been granted.

In dim rooms justice is discussed.