What Happens In The District… (Paper Agents)

by The Acacia Strain

The new economy curs,
They are barking again.
Their chants are ringing out,
Above the city's rooves.
As they cross my way,
Looking for a vent,
I will bring them down
With my bare hands.
This is the oldest brood
Clawing its way through
Armed with brief-cases
Dressed in tuxedo suits.
Welcome to the jungle,
This is what I've become.
Note down my words:
I don't owe shit to anyone!
This is the oldest brood
Clawing its way through
Armed with brief-cases
Dressed in tuxedo suits.