Working Class Slob

Near the turn of the century, we told to shut up and learn. 
Truth depends on what truth is in relative terms. 
For each lie that gets swallowed or spit from afar
Leaves a stain on your dress, but you'll get no cigar. 
In the land of the free, now the home of the slave
Lives the working class slob who gets taxed to the grave
All fr the lazy and alien, stupid and poor 
Uncle Sam raids your wallet and he's looking for more. 
Working class slob
Working class slob
See the working class slob as he sweats for his pay,
While some government hack gives his money away
Was there ever a doubt once we gave them all power
We'd get taxed every day while they spend every hour
From the head of his class to the back of the line
In the interest of fairness or so the doctrines opine
From their ivory towers hear the harpies harsh drones
While the working class stiff sheds more skins than he owns
You working class slob. 
Working class slob
As the captains of industry lie in their beds 
Mom and Pop close up shop as the wealth quickly spreads.
See the pink slips increase as the unions decline
Uncle Sam feeds them bread that was yours and was mine. 
See the parrots all parley with the wolves in the pack
All the donkeys keep braying, the slaves are pushed to the back.
To the back of the bus here comes change that will last. 
See the edge of that cliff? Yes, it's coming up fast. 
You working class slob. 
Working class slob
Now there might be a moral to the end of this tale. 
Ask the pimps we've elected, all their tricks are for sale. 
Whatever you call it, here's the thing you must do. 
Just hand them your wallet and your grandchildren's, too. 
You working class slob 
Working class slob

You're a working class slob
I'm a working class slob.

pop rock, acoustic guitar, male, political, angst, rock drums