Multiplicatives of my multiple personality,
Take on the persona of only one person.
Within my spirits, the masses turn to one,
The one speaks to me, with a crutch.
The crutch is his wisdom, mountainous, great,
It's never to late to conversate, to see.
See my life my son, I shine among the shiny,
I drink with the rich, we drink all the wines.
Regardless of what the poor people think,
We trample them and more we drink.
Nobody cares about the hopeless man,
Only to carry on their backs the righteous man.
Wrong in the eyes of the masses,
Right to the people who see through them.
We see through the masses with cheap sunglasses,
Of vanity and sin, oh, yes, we did win!
Sermon fills the bowels of the weak,
Every weak, week in and week out.
We doubt, we laugh at the poor man,
Why do we gawk at the lesser fortunate?
Just like one person I know,
Who wrote a book with great words, he said,
One has to be on time,
Yet one has the time to be.
Let them be,
It's all the same in the end.