A cold wind blows, off the snow, deep in the middle of town
Huddled together, as birds of a feather, rains falling down
Their new recruits, of the monetary pursuit, now so reknown
Destined to dine, like starving swine, as rich are crowned

People that serve, don't deserve, the past treatment of late
Tragically forgotten, just like meat gone rotten, on a plate
Troubles so deep, forced to sleep, in many doorways of slate
And left to die, where they lie, can nobody see it's too late

As the breeze, brings a gentle sneeze, upon the crest of a hill
I'll never regret, nor ever forget, as from the flow of my quill
On Christmas day, take a moment to say, that we honour your will
Maybe in time, the victims of this crime, can overcome the chill