They used to be middle class
Crawling now on broken glass
Cardboard houses
Broken into
Selling the butler
For a pound of butter
Trading pearls
And furs for food
No more questions asked
Secrets torn in half
Brute survival's
The only truth
Selling beds
Daughters' wealth
Trading for protection
Fresh meat's gotta do
I was more a neighbor
Than a bystander
When they were pulled
Out of the pool
I gave them help
At some expense to myself
Carrying spoils
Trailing perfumes
Crowd went the other way
I took them to my place
Her dad barely
Catching his breath
Appetites gave away
Before the getaway
Now it's our turn
Served on the rack