Pardon the gloom and doom
What have we allowed to transpire
Quietly swept by a government issued broom
Backs keep breaking as our feet never leave the fire

Gone is Every cent I earn as I toil and sweat
This is the life of the working poor
In god we trust escapes my grasp the closer to payday I get
Hope just dwindles as we continue on as corporates laboring *****

The Rich get richer
While the poor seek hope at Sunday's mass
There is something afoot that blurs this picture
No more lunch after Sunday Service because I now pay four dollars for every gallon of gas

Everyday I open my eyes and hope that the light peeking in through my Venetian blinds is the light at the end of tunnel
Sheep fighting through traffic as the roads transform into a funnel
So here I sit wondering will I ever have the time and the money to show my children the true beauty of the good ole U.S. of A
Unfortunate however that in order to survive it is all work and no play
Landlord will be by Today

Pardon the doom and the gloom
It has been quite some time since I've heard the bells of freedom ring
I have broken the trance that I had fallen victim to while tuning in  that ******* box in my living room
Maybe just maybe I'll introduce myself to a neighbor this Spring.