A world dies in a distant sky a billion dreams gone awry
One ponders at its nebulous fate could this be ours at some future date
Our earth is a bountiful place could amply feed our human race
But men with undoubted interlect choose butter mountains to erect
Tons of meat lakes of wine tipping milk down an unused mine
While thousands starve who can define
The millions who live below the poverty line
Life is complex in our native land
With the holy law of supply and demand
Where millions are made selling weapons of war
To tinpot dictators to maintain unjust law.
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