Paper Ruled All

I've got a question for the hands who rule the world
 Is your ambition, to watch it burn?
 Why, when you hold us all
 would you choose to decide
 to let our grandeur fall, to ruin and demise
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 Bury me under a mountain of a beautiful things
 Consume debris, glorious waste; ash in my mouth
 We try to pay debts with our blood
 buying a life gladly sold to us all.
 Paper made to enslave, aimed to shatter our light
 We're designed to defray, collateral closure
 We sow simple seeds planted deep meant to nourish our thirst
 We must tend to the weeds, who've spread through our garden.
 Why is the blood so cold, like splintered frozen ice?
 Sat atop gold thrones to observe death
 Claw out existence from the rubble and the mire.
 See our backs grow strong, our hearts ache with desire
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 Bury me under a mountain of a beautiful things
 Consume debris, glorious waste; ash in my mouth
 We try to pay debts with our blood
 buying a life gladly sold to us all.
 Paper made to enslave, aimed to shatter our light
 We're designed to defray, collateral closure
 We sow simple seeds planted deep meant to nourish our thirst
 We must tend to the weeds, who've spread through our garden.
 We're owned, wings cut off of such poor and unfortunate souls
 Controlled by objectification of material
 Bury me under a mountain of beautiful things
 Consume debris, glorious waste; ash in my mouth
 Cherishing all that you want while wasting what you need
 in slavery a least breath is free
 It's ash in my mouth