Once Wrote Bout Day

Once Wrote Bout Day

 

I've given everything I've had

I've walked the picket-lines

till my feet f*****g bleed red

yet nobody knows - my name

to them I'm just a number

in some fucked up game

 

It always seems - the cards are stacked 

from the time - the dealer places the house bet 

yet we continue - to try and work it- out 

as if some magic formula - will help us sort it out

 

Not time for myths - beliefs - and overdone withdrawals 

at this point - you've witnessed it all 

from the comfort of your recliner couch 

As you flip through the channels 

and vote for the next in line

 

It's time to hit the breaks 

take a moment 

or how f*****g ever long it takes

just stop what you are doing

long enough to consider

this just might be a horrible idea

 

Yeah I voted - but what good did it get me 

I'm still stuck in the rat race that I was before 

those fuckers didn't give us the map to this maze 

just pander complex words around 

and keep us unemployed

yet you know their bar is stocked

From the top shelf

to the unnameable wells

just in case something should come along 

an instant they can earn a vote 

due to their undeniable cause

 

It's all part of the grand design

as long as my yard is greener

you'll always wait In line

my land not yours

my country tis of thee

till its convenient to deny us liberty

 

Well march well shout

Well drink our stout

And well b***h how much better

Things were before

But the truth is we dont really care

Until that once rote bout day

they break down the door