End of the Road

At first I was thinking of this as a rap, but now I’m not sure. Time to pull out the guitar. In progress.

Getting paid to do nothing, just sitting on your ass
Doing nothing with your life, living for a free pass
Well don’t look at me, bud, it’s time you were told
You’re at the end of the line, it’s the end of the road

You gave a politician money, and now it’s coming back
In set-asides and carve-outs, and regulatory slack
Well don’t look at me, bud, you’re bought and sold
You sold your soul, and it’s the end of the road

Don’t lecture me about fairness
Don’t lecture me at all
Get off my back and out of my wallet.
End of the road

Our children and their children, will be paying off the debt
You accrue without remorse, and you’re not done yet
Well don’t look at me, bud, it’s time you were told
You’re at the end of the line, it’s the end of the road

Getting something for nothing, or because of who you know
Ain’t the American way, and it just goes to show
That dissent is patriotic if you tear it all down
End of the road for that noise, clown.
End of the road.

First they came for my guitar, and I said nothing….

“This machine kills fascists.”

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