The kids are hungry and nowhere to go A thousand distractions, so now you know That the burn of youth in the old mens' eyes Never put a stop to the alibis I've seen the fantasies and heard the praises sung All the while looking up from the bottom rung Look down, look down and see the broken pieces of humanity Beat down, beat down, and crushed by the heel of authority There's no magic in your marketplace No logic in your design It's tragic and commonplace The wicked leading the blind The kids are restless and nothing to eat A thousand fingers to point and a life of deceipt The discourse gets so out of place As Adam Smith laughs in Harry Browne's face That hand is too bloody to be invisible these days Blanket comparisons ignore divergence in many ways