Capitalist Salute

I pledge my allegiance

By which I mean

I put my conscience

Up for auction

E-Bay - 12.75

You’ve got to feel

To know you’re alive

We’ll trade in years and years

For a few pennies each week

Coins and slips of paper

And in the end when we’re laying

On the last spot we’ll ever see

All those jingoism-stamped papers will be

Locked up in some

High security zero tolerance high-tech corporate

Wasteland

And we’ll regret all those hours

Behind the conveyor belt

Tossing out hunks of plastic

While hunks of humanity

Are torn out overhead

But they’re better off dead

Because nothing comes between us

And our money

Except death, that is.