Yearning To Breathe
We are the workers of this nation,
making less than it takes to survive.
We are the farmer in the cornfield,
the cowboy out on a cattle drive.
Factory drones at minimum wage,
the waitress that’s making even less.
We are all looking for that ladder,
to help us out of this stinking mess.
We are the colors of the spectrum,
We’re more than just white, black, red, or brown.
We are all that has been tossed aside,
and everyone that has been knocked down.
We’re the fooled, hoodwinked, and bamboozled,
We believe in the American way.
Westill think that we can get ahead,
as long as we work hard and we pray.
We’re one of millions yearning to breathe,
there’s no greater want to be desired.
There is no refuse more wretched than,
we, the poor, homeless, hungry, and tired.
I understand why you are angry,
because I am angry as hell too.
With the information they give me,
it’s hard to tell what’s lies or what’s true.
I look to politicians to help,
they ask me what I’m prepared to pay.
Sorry, but our hands are tied they cry,
at least until next election day.
We are the future of our nation,
that is trying hard to still believe.
If we will work hard and pay the price,
then America will still be free.
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