It's Time

July 13, 2011
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My radio clock
Tick Tock’s
To the tune of Kesha.
It’s time to address ya- so ya can understand
what is going on in this f***ed up land.

Empty people with empty words stand in empty crowds
Just to please their master.
Conformity is the usual, and understanding is the unusual.
Contradictory is no longer what is wrong and right,
it’s what’s left and right

Spitting through a blow horn in the middle of traffic no longer gets you where-
You want to go.
Put that thumb down and keep walking,
Because it’s the norm not to show-
up- Not just when someone important is talking,
but when there is something important to be heard.

Chalk on the sidewalk is carelessly scuffed over,
Pieces of paper no longer hold the same value,
Green can be printed easier than gold.
So when do we scold
The wrong
Who are left just to conform to an ideal?

It’s such a steal to sit on the couch
And let uncle sam feed that growing pouch-
On your stomach.
Since when is everyone entitled?
It’s the majority class
The lower class as it’s titled
That aren’t doing themselves any favor
Everyone takes, keeps to themselves, no more friendly neighbor.

People tell me it’s a dog eat dog world kid.
Well, I think it’s about time to rid-
Whoever’s idea it was to forbid-
Government from governing-
Welcome to the land where business is big
And people are mere fractions of a wrong equation
That will never be undid.

Don’t sit up,
Sit down,
Take a load off because this country will provide for you
It’s not a melting pot
It’s a stew-
That everyone deserves to eat.
Everyone was born into a divine understanding of deserving.
It’s stuck like glue,
And will always stick to that beat
Because we are Americans.

We may think we are the leaders of our tiny world,
But we are just following the metronome that was set by our forefathers centuries ago.
It won’t be curled,
Or shot,
And if your thinking what I’m not.
Yes sound can bend.
It’s time to stop sending
Our children to war
And start showing them some more
that they are indeed being f***ed over.
Their only hope now is to enter the lotto and kiss that four leafed clover.

No more commanding, demanding,
Because all that is leading to disbanding
While big business just keeps expanding.
And uncle sam keeps handing-
Unworthy Men green gold
While I go out and work till I can’t hold-
Anything in my grasp.

It’s time to wake up and realize
That we can no longer idealize-
Our own future.
Undo that suture
And let go
Because we can no longer keep to a two century old show.

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