I live in a rich man's jail No cot, but a king-sized bed All the bars are mirrors Policed by maids instead Elsewhere, extends a great balcony (Not a pitiful, little window) To spit on the ants of humanity Huddling free on the streets far below Often, I'm ordered to my rub(ber) room Under the watchful hands of Marléne Safely locked away from my wife, who's Estated back home in her den

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