The morning was pink and I drank from the sink, hard to swallow the start of a terrible week. Asleep at the gears, shrink from the fear, our ships are stuck in the harbors of a terrible year. The players are played, you couldn’t pay me to stay, eight months under our heels, already over the decade. Out of a job, sick as a dog, now the wealthy are healthy and the rest of us robbed. A white collar crime, fell from the sky like a shell of a person on a hell of a ride
I sing like I swallowed the key, but I’m gonna do it in my own way. I could be what you want me to be, and I’m only a passionate scream away. But I’m not in a race against time like a factory built on a fault line or my car overheating on the grapevine. And the past isn’t too far behind. In fact it’s just a mile ahead, cause I’ve learned the same lessons a thousand times. Gonna learn ‘em every day till I’m dead. Like my life at the expense of another’s, like there’s prisoners putting out wildfires, like there’s always someone at the bottom of the empire.
Buried and broke, I choke on the smoke, dirt under my fingernails a song at my throat. I’m takin it back, it’s okay to ask, I’ll keep on strumming and pass around the hat. Battered and bloody, scattered and trying, shattered and hungry—I’ll get in line.
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