Archive
10/07/08 - (1)
Blue-Collar Blues
OK, so I admit it. I've been irritable as hell, lately, Not only with the old lady (which ain't out of the ordinary)
But cranky and crotchety as my old lady on the rag, With my fellow workers, at the plant (Which is highly un-normal) —
You might even go as far as to say pissed off, Lathered and chapped, at George Bush, For sticking our asses in the meat grinder
And turning my 411(k) and pension-fund retirement Into patties and links that look less like sausages and dogs Than mystery meat not even a buzzard could eat.
Worst, I've been feeling weak as shit, lately, And can't sleep worth a good goddamn. I've been shoving down Twinkies and Fritos, guzzling Cokes.
(Would you believe that, in three weeks, I've padded on ten pounds, around my gut? Junk food's the only medicine I got, for going broke.)
People ain't buying cars, 'cause they can't get loans. I make cars. Guess what? Duh! I ain't got a job, next month, Ain't got a house, month after that.
And those is the economics of my high-financed equation For failure, meltdown — down and out, on my ass — Thanks to a group of Wall Street fags working for George Bush.
Would I say I'm irritable, cranky, crotchety, pissed off More than I'm afraid? Not really. To be really honest, I'm scared really shitless,
'Cause there don't seem to be any epoxy for this fix. My old lady crying and complaining, day and nights, Ain't helping to make matters worst, either.
And if the world keeps sinking deeper into repression, Where's that gonna leave me and the old lady When there ain't no more fat of the land to eat off of?
Come on! I make a mean little part of a car. But what else can I do, if pinch comes to shove (and it will, is)? You tell me, President Al O. Bama, President Sarah McCane!
10/07/08 - (1)
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