It's a job to be in the cold,
see downcast eyes
that offer no comfort
Could be a bother
but it's the cost of a dollar
The unemployment rate plummets,
then why is there no food in my stomach?
Fiscal balance is a worthy risk,
yet certain corners still smell like ****
Certain streets are walked by unequal feet
The numbers don't lie
to those comfy pockets
who tell pillow lies
swooning sweet picture lullabies
to middle income homes
and high tech telephones
while it's a job to be in the cold
and it doesn't show up anywhere,
except in front of your face