Profits from Misery
They are selling condoms to paedophiles
So they don’t leave DNA.
They’re selling missiles to maniacs
Who have the means to pay.
We’re best friends with Saudi
And Assad’s not such a bad guy.
Profit – that’s the reason why.
We’re selling bullets to psychopaths
And thumb-screws to bully boys
As long as they’ve sufficient readies
To pay for all the toys.
Profit from misery
They do not give a damn.
Children play in sewage
When it’s part of their big plan.
Screams are just the background
To the purchase of another yacht.
There are no holds barred.
They give it all they’ve got.
They’re selling bombs to the bastards
Who are murdering their own.
Electric prods to torturers
Who never act alone.
Stability’s the enemy –
That’s no fun.
You cannot make good money
If they’re not killing everyone.
Profits from Misery
I got up in the middle of the night with these words ringing round my head. I wrote them down in the dark. They are better in the dark. The light of reality does not make happy reading.
This world is run by the big corporations for profit. They do not care about human suffering, the pillaging of nature, death, misery, rape, torture, slaughter or the devastation of the planet. All they care about is money.
It’s like a big computer game as they accrue their billions. Who has the best yacht? Who has the best penthouse suite? Who has the most wealth, most power, and most influence?
They bribe and control from afar. No government is immune. They fund the candidates they want elected. They buy up the media to tell us what to believe and who to vote for and they control the corruption of the establishment.
Lying if all part of their strategy.
They blow a country up so they can build it again and profit from the process. They gamble on the stock market throwing subsistence farmers into starvation to extract their crock of gold. They close factories to open elsewhere at cheaper wages and pay the minimum in order to extract the maximum. They bribe. They cheat. They corrupt. They lie. They create one big cycle of misery in which the 99.9% of us all swim.
Their faces are well hidden except when they buy a football club or two.