Hard ground, desecrated
by the fiendish imperials
we fought to control
but then became.
A charlatan would be proud,
proud of your ingenuity,
proud of your self-service,
proud of the broken hands.
Defy the definition
of what is happy:
money's what I need
because there's too many people,
no more room.
I'd build a house
and grow my food
myself
like they say we should, but
there's no more room.
