Lower taxes for the wealthy
And the never-ending war
Can’t afford to fix the bridges
Never talk about the poor
Those fancy noble pundits
Talking on tv
All worried ‘bout decorum
Blah blah blah civility
It’s fully copacetic
Dropping 20 thousand bombs
If you do it with a smile
And you’re good at looking calm
Crooks and politicians
Keep on getting paid
Plundering our country
And calling it free trade
by Richard W. Bray
I love the working man
And I’d walk your picket line
But my wingtips give me bunions
And my sneakers need a shine
And it’s so darn hot
When I’m out in the sunny
You know I feel your pain
But I love that dirtymoney
Free trade ain’t so free
When we ship your job away
But those fat cats with their wallets
Will remember me someday
Disappearin’ factory jobs
Ain’t no kind of funny
You know I feel your pain
But I love that dirtymoney
All my favorite people
Are really corporations
Corporations don’t get sick
Or ask me for vacations
Politicians crave cash
Like a bear loves him some honey
You know I feel your pain
But I need that dirtymoney
by Richard W. Bray
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