Haiti's France, Wall Street Legacy, Where are We?
Quagmire and turtles all the way down,
Comes a pit of your doing,
Our undoing.
Now, that we've sunk in hell,
For your benevolence, former colonist,
Kindly, leave us the fuck alone.
What else could you be doing in a place you begrudgingly championed?
If it serves your interest, then there's interference.
Power and influence, you'll never stop
Guns and roses, hail for hypocrisy
When your own internal body is chaos
You would orchestrate chaos
Kick out any threat, when you couldn't even face some threat yourself.
Had those medicines and drugs coming to your bay,
But for money talking, you would never truly pressure the trade?
What was once an opium is now your highly-graded poppy
Twenty-first century
The best of fashion, and degradation.
And now, you want to take a visit to our scandalous policy
A little overseer of what is once your territory.
And these whoremongering politicians is ready to spread their legs for you
Accomodate your nudges and your desires.
Of what?
As said by a random user, being an American whore doesn't pay well.
Once abandoned, twice toggled on the global political arena.
Couldn't even make a stance on how you would defend Taiwan.
Loser.
What was left for us, is high rise of the cost of living,
Persistent inequality
And us surviving until our cold grave.
Where were you when the ocean finally decided to sink us?
We were never the Atlantis,
We are not the Atlantis.
I wish we were not your dependents,
But for your conditional benevolence,
For the love of God,
Leave our internal affairs for us alone.
Don't go on visiting the chamber if it suits you,
There's not much ado for your little supervision
While the rest is shut out from these machinations
That will soon dictate our lives.
Being an American whore doesn't pay well,
What comes after are plagues and diseases,
After the tryst of unequal dynamic, after an affair of power imbalance,
A destitute motherland is left dying beside her babe.
Heaving the last breath it could bestow to the future of her child,
Holds beside the innocent, cradled the babe's coo to death
And that babe is one among the cases,
Of bastards robbed out of a better life.
You'll come back to where your comfort zone lay,
Forgotten you'd ever did one,
A little bone hidden in the closet
Of your fancy Americana.
Looking fine, aren't we?
