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von Benjamin Daniel

Sit at my desk, back is getting worse
One more tally on the scorecard for the curse
I′m growing more indifferent to the hearse
But I'm still running
Videos, they′re crying from relief
I've been growing stiffer in my grief
If I had the green, you'd best believe
I′d get adjusted

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Tyrants back in business, it′s a sign
If not of the end, it's of the fight
Between all is well and nothing′s right
Where's justice?
Cause the day we plant our calloused feet
Vanity′s a song that oft repeats
Through the tired voice on our TVs
"This just in"


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And Mama always worried about my spine
And every other ailment of mine
But she'd so many I had not the time
To fight them
And even if I live to ninety-nine
Every day in joy and mirth and wine
Life is still as quick as it′s unkind
We're dying

Stop lying
Stop lying

Brother, we might not be middle-class
I might never get alignment back
Maybe there's still nothing that we lack
It′s rust, man
But as the light floods into where we writhe
If you′re feeling blind, don't be surprised
It just takes a while to let our eyes
Adjust, man


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