Masses in multitude 
exponential dreams 
cover the inbetweens 

Beneath the dirt and grime 
these hands of mine 
can't grip the game 
it's all the same 
old story over again
the same old pain 

Building houses upon
the brittle bones
of those who's gone
Frail are the homes 
for raiders of the old
raiders of the bought and sold

We are all pieces of the puzzle
tightly muzzled 
Prevented from speaking
the truth we've been seeking 

Tightly gripped secrets hidden 
beneath creaking floor boards 
Doing our bidding in the dark 
away from the hordes 
Afraid to light the spark
of judgement 

Judgement leading to exklusion 
massive prosecution
in the public eye
the green eyed spy