Work dribbles in
Trying to fill the bucket with the hole in it
I am forced to buy
Due to the lack of better options.
All the better options are too high up the ladder
For me to reach.
I am allowed to claw my way up
If I’m not squeamish about blood
And the pile I’d have to crawl over near the bottom.
The say from the top
I’d get an excellent view of all the carnage
And you only hear the screams and crying
When the weather is bad.
And, if you turn the talking heads up,
It easy to drown them out.
When it gets really bad they say
I’ll be able to fly some place really up there
Where I can hire someone
To throw the malcontents off the edge
If they get to close.
When they fall it’s almost like living next to the highway:
You almost never hear it.
No comments:
Post a Comment