Broken people in a first world's despair

 Broken people in a first world's despair
 With our hearts in our heels
 The throat gagged by the shame

 Because we are all well aware
 That our pain in truth reveals
 The luxury of our frame

With a roof over the head
And money for the bread
We still lay in our bed
Thinking that maybe we should be dead

The base of the pyramide is guaranteed
But nothing seems to make our heart bleed
So we lay under cover waiting to recover

In between the fight and  the flight
We stand still:
The battery has run low

In us there is no heroic knight
Just the absence of a thrill
And a deep love for our pillow

Our crisis is in truth silly

Some place in the world people are hungry, really

And if they saw our apathy, I'm sure they would get angry

I know I would, if everyday I was trying the best I could

It is a luxury to reclaim sense

While leaving it all in suspense 

But still:

The mist is just too dense

So we do the hungry the offense

We choke up half eaten meals

Because our heart

Is all the way down in our heels.