The pigs

The pigs wash thier suits in thier food
we live for our last moment
trying to live without thumbs
calling everyone on thier bluff
taking attention away from ours
in our flashy cars
smoking pricey cigars
when we were kids we wanted to be rock stars
now we're just trying to look best in bars
trying to call equals slaves and better ones worms
trying to pull diamonds from ground chuck
trying to die in glamour with the most populated funeral
glow sticks
slow chicks
pull the pick-up lines from the last decade
we're phantoms with no chains to rattle
we're urban myths that no one believes
celebrity cardboard cut-outs
now a mirror holds you and your devilish smile.
Who else will?