I See Dark-Clad Angels Seated In The Clouds

I see dark-clad angels seated in the clouds
Looking down on me and you,
As if we’re little more than pigeon dung,
Excrement on the pavements below,
Little do they know, without jealousy?
I see them as vermin as vultures up there
Plumage lofty, tails stuck high in the air
Little do they know the plight of us down here?
Treading these pavements the gutters overflow
I see them lording-it, saying how they deserve it
He’s a pimp a drug user a pusher and yet, I see them
Swanky clad carrion flies with cocaine up their nose
Looking down on these vagrants that haven’t laundered
Haven’t cleaned themselves or their clothes
I see them glass-elevator-fools laughing like
Jackass mules; shouting I’ve given to the poor.
But I point-blank refuse to give any more to even up the score.