S. Hurley
There's a hamburger on the horizon
It's all rushing and I'm blushing
Towards lunch hours they stride
On paychecks are their pride
Something tells me this is not for me
There's a profit in the picture
It's all phoning and I'm moaning
Words traded in strange tongues
On ashes in my longs !
And every conversation
Is a new buying sensation
They vowed just after birth
To get their money's worth !
Still it's people in this painting
Breathe like mine in their confimes
They don't invest much thought
In consequences bought !