why must you turn your head away with disgust?
aren't I the result of your kind of injustice?
my body lacks proper nourishment
my eyes reflect the war I battle in this factory
as you turn away from my bleeding hands
the hands that made your 'american dream' products
all of my years sucked out by your greed
spent for you to have money to burn
I will surely die at your feet and the feet of the consumers
wondering 'where did all of humanities sympathy go?
did it leave us because we failed to use it for the right things?
or did it not feel enough of itself
for me and everyone else who suffers?'
I remember begging my god
to shed some light on me with luck
because I cared to live, I have died in these walls
and yet I'm a hush-hush cause
the consumers don't care about my dreams