They cannot help themselves,
From exalting class and purity above others;
For they are grand and they are Titus, and we are mere maggots under their soles
It is wrong to assume that they exist exclusively
For we can also see them daily,
Walking down the road and drinking the same tap and smiling,
A generous eye to each fellow but hides the exaltation from plain sight.
Never apparent, never brave
But guile enough to misbehave, contrary to our acceptance;
Us who are maggots under their soles
Beware, beware my little one
No matter how big you are, you are a slave
From the masters that never gave, for they are golden and shall never
Ever be neither faulty nor unclean
They cannot help themselves,
Because their mirrors are so clear and their minds so bright that they are the light
Blinding themselves and absorbing their own grace
Celebrated by tiny successes of stepping and crushing the maggots under their soles
No doubt they will climb that ladder,
Above us maggots, and offer us a helping hand with a strong stomach
Tolerating our filth and our stench that irritates their sensibilities
And to why would someone so self-exalted be seemingly pungent like the maggots is beyond me
That it is only this specie that deceives the echelons it's true face
Would we come to realize that civilization is superficial
They are not their brother's keepers, and they cannot help themselves
For they are grand and they are Titus, and we are mere maggots under their soles
That unless true bravery will recognize their indulgences
Their guile will know no bounds and humanity is senseless
Becausethey cannot help themselves, equality regardless
