No dead presidents
in her pocket.
No more presents
for the stockings.
She's doing her best
but can't handle the world.

Every night it's Drip Drop.
because the sadness doesn't stop
The wheel is turning,
the rubber is burning.
The kids can't eat,
the parents can't sleep
The weeping of babes
echoes in the streets

Now you can't understand
the pain in her hands.
Because this was never
part of the plan.
And now she is wondering if she can
Go on with a life
that is made of only strife.
Because the bills are flowing,
and there's no knowing
When the next paycheck will appear
it's been almost a year.

But there's still hope.
She pushes on in the fight,
the fight for her children to live a life
A life worth liveing;
one that's better than hers.
One where they will go far but remember her
For she will have given them that life
through blood, sweat, and tears.
That life they can live for many more years.