Even though capital flows land, labour do not move so fast, so quick and so the rich keep a grip

a tight reign they reign in the horses in the steds maintain control as they please change the laws, see no flaws to the system which sucks yet keeps them afloat above the tide tide, tongue tide dumb without a voice just arms and hands to turn the screws on the working lads who dare do something more than sit and stare as the idle rich go past unconcerned about all but how much loot they can tuck away, aside whilst the masses remain tongue-tied in tide cottage and home alienated they can but roam to find the roots of history as the future unwinds capitalsists shrug their assets mobile they feel so smug whatever the weather their fortune's founded on the shores of forever as they bloat and gloat idling away behind the mote which protects the world

that feed on the blood of the workers who breathe the free blown air taste the rain and the sun wherever they are ! from such parasitic insects