i was born into the lower class

wore holes in the same clothes

my brother's hat

my father's job

couldn't make ends meet

we found our feet in the dusty streets

spinning wheels long enough

they dig holes in the ground

tell yourself you'll leave

but your roots are climbing down

you can rip up the earth

you can chop out the tree

but if you find it here

there's no way you'll ever leave

i've been falling

always crawling

i don't know why