 A man at the bank said lets not talk percentages,
fourteen hour days, still two mortgages.
you asked the state for aid, they gave you an ad campaign. that didn't help.
you took your family to join in the urban sprawl.
you can't see the stars as well but you're near the mall.
you can't stand no more, in line at the convenient store. its way too long.
you used to work your land, fed a thousand mouths.
now you eat their shit for the money now.
emptied your heart to fill your bank account.
well i should talk im just the same...buy my records down at the corporate chain
i tell myself i shouldn't be ashamed...but i am.
adolescence made her an activist. now shes the one who does all the lecturing.
now its cold, she's on the table more, the dream is dead.
wont eat their food or wear their clothes, always wants to know
where her money goes. well we shell it out for filling up her nose.
so run it up i'll run my mouth nevermind the shit that i sing about cause
i tell myself to buy a fucking house.
12,000 square foot. 4 car garage. tennis courts swimming pool and a backyard.
i don't know, it can seem like a lot.
thats why i pay someone to clean it up. to clean it up. my big house.
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