The Birds of the Quarry

The landfills getting higher till
They almost touch the sky
Each started as a pit in which
No man would choose to die

Deep and wide and long they were
Once quarried for their stone
To build the roads and bridges
To our now excessive homes

These homes now house the rich folks
That make money from this trash
Their wealth just grows and multiplies
While they keep getting smashed

They do not care about the poor
And needy in the land
They only seek to serve themselves
And entertain their fans

Their priests become their judges
And they trade God for religion
But when the sacrifice is made
They find that they’re the pigeons