When the vultures are done
and our bones are picked clean
and the dreams we once clung to
become the nightmares we're hung by,

ah, but,
'the sun'll come out tomorrow'

and five cents on the dollar
when they foreclose on your mortgage,
if you're lucky.

'Are you feeling lucky?'

These are the pages that will shape us,
lines on our faces to make us
older and wiser.

Soft soap for the thin man
cheaper oil for the tin man
some always win man,
that's the nature of things.