Without a Care

It's here, nor there, when living on a prayer. Rolling on, without a care. I watch, as you live out your nightmare. One bad dream, the worlds become. But who should complain; the damage already done. Like you; I've turned my back, you're way to serious. And I'm having to much fun. Living life under the smoking gun. I depend on life itself, you're to worried about collecting wealth. Now you're the ones sitting on the store shelf. Sold to the highest bidder, They're not broke, but they are fibbers. Making promises they won't deliver. Yet they label me, the sinner. As they sell the country, up the river.