I was born with dollar signs on my back
As if that is all I would ever be worth
As if that was all I would ever be good for
The amount splayed under my fingernails
From digging into my skin
A gold mine that was never mine
A land mine I'd one day die in.
I was a wealth of potential
And then expectations
And then disappointment
And then simply vibrations
Of thoughts and feelings
A jackpot siren of insecurity
A lottery I was born to win
Where winning meant spending
The last of my birth
On a life too cheap
To mean anything
And a lifetime of work
To make it cost more
what are we waiting for?
Luck to make it all alright
Happiness to make everything all good
Love to make everything complete
Success to make work go worth
Money to have everything you want
Hope which will not diminish
or a normal Life
to live with and without everything mentioned above .
On a long and simple gallows tree
a god and dollar bill I see --
and I've never felt so happy;
no, never felt so happy.
I walk around and brush the bush
and think about all the ants I mush,
just want to make a cent or two;
what else am I supposed
to want to do?
And on the laundered sky I spot
a furious eye over a shackled lot
-- but I'm told it's just the sun
destroying all the ants it finds.
I don't think I understand,
my god, my wallet is full
but my life ain't worth living.
God, you're like a bird in my hand:
something beautiful, always squirming.
And I wish I could let go.
This is a robbery
of what makes you,
This is my honey;
I fit inside of you;
This is melting.
Our malls are fiends
and our soccer fields
are growing stronger;
our sports are growing
trophies our children
could never be.
This is daddy's blood;
our hero, our stud.
Working hard to
help the factory.
This is poverty.
This is you and me --
we love to applaud.
This is blood, blood,
This is you and
this is me.
Introvenus feeding tubes for college kids
Working hard at working hardly
Hardy masses footing parties
Party lines drawn by children
With no idea how or why
We've become the way we are
How'd we get here anyway, whos to say
Its worse, or is it?
(spoiler: it ain't)
Spoiled rich kids writing rules and wrecking homes and holding office
I feel so lost around the passion
Alianted from the ideas
Crafted out of years of bliss
wrapped up in a minute of
Subdermial real world pins
You've seen the half, but not the rest
So let me clue you in
This life isn't a virtue test
Give your horse a decent rest
And get the education
Your parents gifted you
Society is pathetic, and you could transed if you tried
The blind lead the blind when you gouge out your eyes
We were lovers before we were friends.
You wanted to build a nest in my tree
before bothering to climb it
or learning me
to see whether or not my branches
could hold your home
filled with things upon things.
You wanted big things
shiny and expensive things.
You didn't want to decorate me,
you wanted to use me like a coat rack
to hold your winter coat
You never asked if I liked things.
that there are things I like
and things that I don't like
but it isn't things that I want -
It's everything that can't be bought
that brings me joy.
you were so sure
that if you filled my mouth with
it would mute the sound of my discontent.
But it only made me creak louder.
And when you tried to keep my hands busy
with the job of holding the things
you bought for me,
it would stop me from
pushing you away
when you whispered at night
that you loved me,
and now it was my turn to say thank you
by doing things
written in fine print
at the bottom of your receipts.
But you can't pay me to stand tall,
to hold your things high off the ground
when the flood waters rise.
You can't place your coins in a slot
to make a tree bend to your wind
or let you tether off your boat
to weather a storm beneath her limbs.
You slipped me so many tips,
but I don't have a price.
We were lovers before we were friends,
and we were strangers long
before we said goodbye.
The decline in standers.
We praise those who pander.
The bread and butter of art.
That couldn't save a creative heart.
Just a fan watching their favorite artist sell poison in a can.
The ultimate war.
It's money verses feelings.
It's money verses the truth that lies in our heart.
It's money verses art.
My mind floats in the galaxy
My body see kisses, money, pride
One soul wants to be better than another
Throwing colors that turns to ashes
I can't run
So I stand still
And watch everything burn
They love fire
I found my sanctuary
In my mind
And follow where it wanders
To the infinite supernova
Why do we ignore the poor
As they wash up on our shores
Children drown in the deep
While we sit comfy in our seats
The fireflies rain down
Tearing their homes to the ground
Still youre unable to comprehend
the love lost in the souls of men
Green God of America
Why should you care
If you can pay your rent