The Orchestra at the Ball

Up on the ladder the insides are removed
We slide like slime through
The flock paper walls
But as you're not really listening
You won't notice at all
We are empty and confused it
Barely keeps us amused
These are bad clothes for rich
Folks who have joined the master race
All we want is to be like you we beg
For the scraps from your
Table there is really no need to fear
Were the orchestra at the ball
Trussed up in tuxedoes for slaveships

Unforgiving pencil sharp
Well at least you look the part