Lyrics:

Our cities seem to function quite the same:
Sweeping ghettos under one big rug makes them easier to contain,
So the upper-middle class can sleep
(Or shop in peace)
And convince themselves that
'trickle-down
' will solve this poverty.
Yes, murderers walk our streets and their weapons are their pens, desks, policies and P.R. campaigns
(Fed by the spoils of war)
Against the
'lazy, shiftless
' populations of the poor.
This system cannot be reformed
(So how about we try something different?)