We shall come
With all our wealth and our vulgarity into your land
Carving deep wounds in our wake
Planting the sharp-edged green seed of money deep into your hands
And as you grasp, gasping, you will thank us
As it takes root
Growing an entangling itself around your simple, naive lives
It will placate you
We shall come
Hard and fast into your underdeveloped, unexploited little world
Tearing away the soil beneath your feet where you stand
Scattering the broken gifts it offers up all around us
Digging the foundations of our own image
Into the raw, cold belly of the earth
Send spiraling monuments to our glorious achievements
Into the heavy leaden sky
You will watch from the horizon
Imprisoned by your own pleasures
Bound by the material chains we will supply
And when we have turned one side of the world's face
From the sun into blackness
The other will then burn under the slap of our greed
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