The Beautiful People

And I don't want you

And I don't need you

Don't bother to resist, or I'll beat you

It's not your fault that you're always wrong

The weak ones are there to justify the strong

The beautiful people, the beautiful people

It's all relative to the size of your steeple

You can't see the forest for the trees

You can't smell your own disgrace on your knees

There's no time to discriminate,

Hate every one

That's in your way

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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