Dust is swirling as far as the naked eye can see,
While the crops we plant are dying of starvation.
Till this dry soil we must for promise it holds,
Even as the plan of hateful indignation unfolds.
We are all in now for there can be no going back,
Mortgaged to the hilt with oblivion at our sides.
Forced to sell out before we have gotten to try,
Is enough to drive tears from a dust plagued eye.
So when this harvest fails as we all know it will,
The overseers shall come to collect on our debts.
We shall be ejected from our homes with a grin,
For avarice with interest is clearly not a sin.
Food is not for fools as money is for masters,
Even as we continue to starve at their expense.
By the sweat of our brows we still shall burn,
For dust we are and to dust we shall return.