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Album: Track 4 on For Hero: For Fool
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While the wealthy will forever roll weighted dice
so well and white within new wonderland.
The poor will just arrive by crutch quite cancel-eyed
and half-beliefed outletting all their luck loose just this once
from beneath the eaten lining of their only overcoat and gums.
and outside in all the lines going and gone around the world
your kind is left to age and hold place...
its continual crunch of entire months toward zero's and ones
in the hoped pursuit of what the timeclock can't afford them...
as it leans in slow with all their life and eats those coming weeks to death...
This is no joke...
they can see themselves at 50
and are not psychic.
Hung in the ever evening of their years
buckling down in the absolute wind
spun between two rather serious magnets
well dressed daughters
the consumate good doctor bill.
And it all boils back down to timing and keeping up teeth
bread ends and inevitable Albert Brown seats...
this will be the ring of your next new rap name.
it will become your most mnemonic device
for those many most important P.I.N.s.
it will be what I call my hard drive and then second cat.
Bread ends good ghost to obscure rap
tragic Middle class act
never young and tall feared
in the cold grand code of collapse.
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