When the shift comes
When the good has come undone
Rung out of the feelings
Absurd little dealings
Of high dollar agreements
Gentrification and public ceilings
I have become the problem
No longer a solution
Another chimney
On the streets of pollution
My feelings have crackled
Dried up like timber
Burst into flames
Under the opposite
Season to winter
My hopes wither
From giant logs on a river
To little more than a small sliver
The exchanges of gold and silver
Have yielded a new type sinner
With higher debts
And higher fevers
To push up rents
And out the believers
So now maybe I am the problem
I am not quite sure how it shifted
From pushing keys
In the seat I am sitting
Now to the lords of rent
Coming down hard
In a city unfit for a family and yard
So I will move on
To new opportunities and games
For somewhere else I may be the solution
To help clean up
The new streets of pollution
