Moon Underneath

I see a child, all skin and bones,
no food in his stomach, no shoes on his feet.
I see a man with a historical quote,
waving and stumbling with the moon underneath.

Like eating an apple from the core outwards,
like boasting about what you're yet to find.
And still the child in hunger can't sleep,
was it such a big step for mankind?

Like buying the furniture but not builing the house,
making the car but not inventing the wheel,
to reach a goal no-one really needs,
the food from the poor they brutally steal.

Deep in the dirt the child is now dead,
his innocent soul the great God will now greet,
I wonder what He thinks when such shame he sees,
and the fool burning trillions with the moon underneath.