The self

Self, self, self

It’s all about fucking self,

How we can find happiness

In material wealth,

Glossy fucking items

That no one fucking needs,

Sold to us through our doctorial

Plasma television screens,

Being told by those who lead

Just hat we should dream,

That keeps the cogs turning on their capitalistic machine

They call this a free market democracy,

But it only works for those at the top for those who are wealthy,

And any kind of views on being loving and caring

Are mocked and seen as deviant and somehow people believe,

That someone’s trying to take away peoples luxuries

These glorious fucking material goods that nobody needs,

And when people preach equality

You see how people have now become obsessed with greed,

Getting quite vociferous and really fucking angry

Because it’s a sad testament that our societies,

Have become focused on greedy idolatry

And that self, self, self is rooted in what’s in it for me?

Fuck everybody else, I only care how I am seen

Successful and amazing because I built a life on fucking dreams,

That I did not acquire myself but we’re instilled in me

By the capitalistic purvayors of empty vacuous themes,

That when we look truly at what we’ve become, we realised we’ve become demeaned.