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Over at the capital the master makes his plans
while the cronies at the mansion put money in his hands.
  Me I'm standing over here having me a fit
  everywhere I go I got no place to sit.
So I steady look around there's nothing else to do
to me it's so ridiculous nothing else seems true.
  It's all about diversion to hide what's going down
  the whole world is dysfunctional and we're a bunch of clowns.
The bible thumping preacher says it's the dark ones evil ways
and if we do it like he says we'll see a better day.
  Why is it there's a service charge am I looking at a play
  if I don't have the price it cost do I have to go away?
The blacks all stick together, Hispanic people too
the whites all act like they don't care there's nothing they can do.
  If I cut you with my knife what do you think I'll see
  I'll be damned if it ain't blood just the same as me.
Is that Mr. Jenkins the neighbor down the street
look at that he works so hard he can barely lift his feet.
  Look at over there that's the son of Mr.Chin
  it's twelve o: clock at night they're asking where he's been.
It seems we all need people, it seems to be the way
but there's so many of us we can't get away.
  Over population is it simple as all that
  or is it all a nightmare underneath our hat.
The puppeteer is crouching staying out of sight
with his fingers up his puppets ass with his voice he can recite.
  Does it really have to be this way is there nothing we can do
  I know my ass is hurting hows yours feel to you?

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