Keep your stakes friend

I will keep mine

You run the country

I’m running around just trying

No advocates for artist

Rather keep the real estate

State to state

Proclaim 

The lies keep dropping 

Like smog filled drops of rain

What’s potential and what’s real

Only the average man can feel

Not in some high rise or looming tower

The hands that make these luxuries

Know nothing of the top shelf

Build it high

Then sell it to the highest bidder

Bitter

Bitter

Bitter

What’s happens to the hands that build these towers

After the wealthy have laid there fur rugs

We all look up in disdain

Disbelief

Keep your holdings friends

And I’ll keep mine