I wrote a book about making riches,
Sold it for twenty dollars a copy,
And made a lot of riches,
Open it up and it said to just do this.
Most people understand the ball
But keep missing the pitches.
As soon as you have the keys,
Every lock appears to be switching.

They say you'll make it far
With a modest heart,
An open mind and an honest tongue.
The person saying that was shaking a hand
In his pocket hiding a gun,
A couple side deals that felt like solid leads,
Stealing an honest man's wallet while he bleeds.
But you take it at face value
Instead of biting the hand that feeds.
Why? Because you don't have a choice it seems.

I'm not a starving artist,
I don't have the gift to be,
I'll stroke out stressing on a job
That stands with or without me
Retire then expire, dance the dance of fools,
pay into social security I'll never get to use.
Go ahead and tax my tea,
I can't afford the tea to tax
Just don't ever move that carrot
Or I may fall off these tracks.