Why won’t you take your place on this old chair
While you wait to get to a better place
Why did you pick it up, why did you dare
When you knew about the risks you would face?
Soon you’ll learn that it’s all about money
It’s how insignificant things matter
It matters not if you can move freely
It’s not how conditions could be better
However it stinks you can’t ask for change
Everything’s priced, nothing comes easily
This twistingly long expanse is their range
Behind these closed doors one’s presence must be
Shaken you will be, deterred your morals
Going through it is like movement of bowels