Fuelled By Madness
The servo sign flickers.. then punches your soul..
Numbers climb higher than you can control.
You stare at the price like it’s taking the piss..
“Wasn’t it cheaper? What madness is this?”
You tap on the pump like it might be a glitch..
Like somehow the numbers will drop if you twitch.
But nah, they keep climbing, no mercy in sight..
That shortage excuse rolled out day and night.
We laugh with our mates, “Yeah, she’s brutal, no doubt..”
But under that humour, there’s stress creeping out.
Bills stacking higher, the budget stretched tight..
While headlines spin causes we can’t really fight.
They point at the markets, the wars, and the trade..
At deals that were signed and the choices once made.
Global decisions, far out of our hands..
Still land at the pump where the average one stands.
So we joke and we whinge, ‘cause what else can we do?
When the tank’s nearly empty and payday’s not due.
We laugh at the madness, but deep down we know..
It’s more than just fuel.. it’s the cost of the blow.
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