En Paz

They're good-looking, happy, solid, night owls, famous, charming, useless, and absurd.
They stand out, they sink, they roast in the sun.
They ski, they sail, they drown in booze.
They have more drawers, but also more junk.
They have more clothes, but they also go to more places.
In peace.
They have more friends, but also more fakes,
and more security, but also more fear.
They have more money, but also more expenses.
They have more power, but also more worries.
In peace.
They have more of everything, but also more to lose.
Maybe the world is theirs, but we’ve got them surrounded.
Alone, in pairs, or in a flock, the elite.
They’re the trend, the scoop, and the news for sheep.
They get surgeries, they get fit, they travel everywhere.

They’re pampered, they’re raffled off on horseback and on foot.
They have more standing, but also more rents,
and more to show off, but also more to hide.
In peace.
They have more sins, but also more guts.
They have more paths, but also more flatlands.
They have more lovers, but also more cheating.
They have more shoes, but they also have two feet.
In peace.
They have more last names, but they also kick the bucket,
but, sure, after having lived like a god.