One in ten homes are empty
as I drive down my frozen street,
yet the courts will fine a man
a hundred grand for swindling billions.
My car stereo crackling growls,
"All the power's in the hands
of people rich enough to buy it."
They'll have us all in the streets
fighting like dogs over their scraps
and it don't matter if the state house
is in Madison, Columbus, or Newark.
It's working men trading punches
like it once was black and white
'cause if we're fighting one another
we're paying no attention
as we all get robbed blind.
My wipers push the snow aside
and the speakers demand once for all,
"Are you taking over
Or are you taking orders?"
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