To print a perfect picture

We sold our home to buy machines

To print a perfect picture

Thus discplacing any rootedness

At home, in the abroad

With 20k of capital

And dogs that looked authentic

We came up with ways to photoshop

The Matterhorn in clouds

And the decades went by smoothly

Daddy took us to the States

The financial crash was brutal

But my christmas gifts were great

Only then did I become aware

How competition worked

And now everyone can photograph

Diminishing our worth

And the way the dogs were treated

Made me think about the people

That were forced to stand outside in storms

And squeeze another sale

And the arbitrary ways in which we begged them 

Not to snap our dogs 

for if they did 

our private means would undercut our stock

And monopolies were not for us

Another guy from Portugal had done to dad

The same he did to another guy named John

Watching two old men break out in fights

Instead of better labor rights

Whose outcome would determine

If I‘d get a MacBook Pro

When I did I learned to edit worlds

When Kony hit, I clicked that like

Statistics, streams and profile views

For all my newest slop

But I quickly learned

That no amount of money was enough

Once you measure your success in numbers

They will be your judge

When the splash is done

They‘ve heard your song

You‘re just another man

Now you‘re thinking of the jobs you quit

Since trusting in the plan

If my dad was me he‘d sell his house

And spend it all on clout

But he didn‘t, for he isn‘t

If he did, I‘d be without

But the people bought those pics for clout

So something didn‘t change

Now I‘m buying up the shit I sold

I‘ve bought machines for rage