Warning: Some posts on this platform may contain adult material intended for mature audiences only. Viewer discretion is advised. By clicking ‘Continue’, you confirm that you are 18 years or older and consent to viewing explicit content.
in the gloom of mighty cities,
'mid the roar of whirling wheels,
we are toiling on like chattle slaves of old
and our masters hope to keep us
ever, thus, beneath their heels
and to coin our very lifeblood into gold.
i’m always tempted to sing: