State of the Union
We have to scratch and claw through life,
‘til we can chip off a little bit.
Then hold on tight with two closed fists,
and we must never let go of it.
Put it back for a rainy day,
and never brag about what we got.
‘Cause to some just a little bit,
is a whole lot more than what they’ve got.
The economy and congress,
they can make any healthy man sick.
Seems that all of us nowadays,
are getting the short end of the stick.
When we look inside the big top,
and all we see there are circus clowns.
The fortune teller’s crystal ball,
says it is time to get out of town.
Chorus:
All the while the rich get richer,
they keep winning hand after hand.
But no matter how hard I try,
life just won’t turn out like I planned.
I drink beer to make me happy,
little pills help me fall asleep.
The doctor says I need them all,
to ease these memories I keep.
Our government won’t be happy,
‘til they’ve stole all from those with none.
And we’re facing down the barrel,
Of society’s loaded gun.
So just take your sons and daughters,
all the refuse from your teeming shore.
Lock them behind our border walls,
because we don’t want them here no more.
There is a new group of people,
sleeping out there in the cold and damp.
Rats and roaches their company,
a dim streetlight their only lamp.
Our rights are being burned away,
pretty soon there will be nothing left.
But hate and disillusionment,
of inequality, pain, or death.
We must act before it’s too late,
because all the warning signs abound.
I wonder who will lead us down the path,
to get this whole damned thing turned around.
Repeat Chorus:
All the while the rich get richer,
they keep winning hand after hand.
But no matter how hard I try,
life just won’t turn out like I planned.
I drink beer to make me happy,
little pills help me fall asleep.
The doctor says I need them all,
to ease these memories I keep.
Our government won’t be happy,
‘til they’ve stole all from those with none.
And we’re facing down the barrel,
Of society’s loaded gun.
Copyright ©
Jerry Brotherton
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