Don't
let the little demons run
Without
chains running wild
They
will make the nation poor
They
will make us curse like hell
These
are the bad elements
They
will steal, lie or rob
In
their straight faces
Without
a hint of regret
The
power of greed
It
binds them to its needs
Once
they have it
They
think they are the lords
They
will make their way
Pushing
the people around
They
forget where they are
What
they are suppose to do
The
little demons run
Across
the lines
They
don't take complaints
They
like to play a small fire
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