The Whim of the Ruling Class

by Nick Jaina

well I wait on the whim of the ruling class
the proper men of Sunday mass
well I wait for their eyes to receive someone
thy kingdom come, thy will be done

I see the fires grow
and they will never know
that it’s their fault

well I hold, hold my tongue
because the songs we’ve sung
mean too much to everyone

I see the apple drop
and they will never stop
until they die

well I lie, I lie, I lie to myself
the only thing that I do so well
well I wait on the whim of the ruling class
they wilpl always be first
and I will always be last

© 2007 Nick Jaina