Growling thunder shakes the street.
The ball of flame rolls high,
flipping one Mercedes-Benz,
stock-brokers still inside.
The car is dead, the street alive.
The crowd roars out as one.
You took their jobs and their homes.
You made them feral men.
Notes:
* By 'men', I mean the general sense of 'humankind'. Unfortunately, 'feral men' stuck in my head and I couldn't find anything I liked better.
* Fun Fact: This originally had a third verse that compared the riots to an insurgency against the 1%, but I didn't like the wording. It was too weak after all this nice imagery, so I decided to leave it like this instead. =P
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