Somewhere between alive and dead
We're all just hanging by a thread
Any moment now... the tide will turn
As gravity ends its amused sojourn.
Bent into submission to
The dominant force of the time
To be spent from the empty barrel
Or go slick with hunger for no crime.
Shocked into a nervous freeze
Our Spines like pounded twigs
Till we sway with the breeze
And readily yes sir the gigs.
Insubordination to the system will put me
In extremely uncomfortable situations
Only inconvenienced in other ways than
The slow rot of a monthly compensation.
It all boils down to just this one...
If we have the balls to do it at all
Then we may know that freedom is true
To those who seek without expecting to find.
