Rubber Belt Line

They live boring lives getting in line

Waiting their turned to be scorched in the fire

Assemble and scatter

Like leaves clustering in heat and then dispersing

A will to dance

Dance the death of fire

Till you are crinkled, dry papers

Ashes, on the ground to be forgotten

Careless

Mindless

Spineless

Branded with pride

Deceived to believe

Refusing to question

Swallowing their deceit

Another link to the chain

Standing on rubber belts

To be dropped in the drain

Make me the money

Make me the money

There are too many to hear them complain

Work you to the grave

No time to stop and look at the clock

Am I at 5? Am  I  7?

Numbers replace your name

Sunrise, orders given

Meals were expensive for their empty filling

Sundown, bones bruising

Hard to heal

When the hands of something else is choosing

No time!

No time!

You are sick, sick, sick

Back to the barracks

Even though you feel you are fine.