I woke up one morning
To things around me I don’t need
I woke up that morning
To the aftertaste of my own greed
I wake up every morning
To the sound of hungry mouths to feed
But I
Wasted
Wanted
And let the hemorrhage bleed

Waste not, want not
Anything you need you’ve already got
Waste not, want not
Get your greasy fingers out of the pot

I woke up this morning
To the sound of riots in the street
To the cries from the little mouths
Those without enough to eat
As we all bow down
At the rich man’s uncalloused feet
He pulls on the strings
And we all sheepishly retreat

Waste not, want not
Anything you need you’ve already got
Waste not, want not
Get your greasy fingers out of the pot