So maybe we don’t look like Clooney.
And maybe sweat is all o’er our
Face, sinews and shoulder.
And maybe we don’t bear a label
On our jeans of Tommy Hilfiger.
And maybe you think we are crap
Of the world.
We are the crap that
Works to make that strapless
You so wonderfully flaunt.
We are the motor which spins
The fabric that makes your gown.
We are the ones who move
The civilization and your frown.