For every step of progress
I feel I regress
For every advance
I retreat
There is no perfect balance
That I can keep
No way to create perfection
Keep the lies from a second
Resurrection
Days where weights feel constrained
On my neck
My throat
I go to yell and all I have is a moan
I go to scream
Nothing more than a thin veiled beam
I don’t believe in conspiracy theory
But here we are
Saluting the one percenters
While we are sent cascading into our own graves
Way down
Where the banks collect our clothes
Where the dollar man knows our home
There is no protection
When the problems of insufficient funds
Makes it’s final connection
How did we get to a place of such
Deadly extremes
Some blow up Bentley’s
While other can’t keep up
It seems
Today I fear my future
For more progress means more indebtedness
How can I pull through
When it all seems too much
I get a rush of blood
To my head
I must start again
Create my own hope and go forward
Look to the sky
Keeping my eyes on the prize
Hope will come
Success will come
It has to come
Or we are all to be undone