My eggs went up, I don’t know why. The farmer did less work? I don’t agree. I must concede, a darker something lurked. Then why’d it happen? Why’s my omelet cost the sum of kings? We’ve lost the right to take a look and check up on these things.
Perhaps it was my timeline. I’ve bought them lots before. Perhaps they knew I lacked the legs to grab them from the store. Or rather still, my haircut. It’s bushier than some. Was it my race? Was it my face? A thing that I had done?
Was I just in the median? Or maybe in the mode? Perhaps they simply knew I had a lower class abode. Could it have been my bracket? I’d done quite well, you see. But that was meant so that I could move on with dignity.
The prices aren’t the people, through a screen it’s tough to see. To send out that reminder, we must switch from I to we. They’ll press until we vanish, monopolize the dirt. I’m not just one, I’m all of them, the people this will hurt.