Collars and ties, and suit jacket vacate in troves
the downtown district of government and commerce
Think of the long commute back home as a mandatory transition
Don't dream of getting depressed by 9 to 5, Monday through Friday
We're working in heaven, buster, as opposed to a sweat shop
Here in the U.S. of A, we goof around the frequent water cooler
There in Asia, they go robotic for 30 cents a day for 14 hours
As we commute back home to suburban estates
from the downtown government and commerce district
we leave behind the seamy sores of inner city
the pit stops of zombies, of pedophiles and other felons,
"Hey Mister, can you spare a buck?
I haven't had a square meal since I got dumped
(He means to say he's just been released from jail)
In the gusts of an impending late March ice storm
in the dim and gloom intensifying, I, a shiftless man,
dingily slip off the shoes of a sleeping, homeless ex sergeant
a criminal act to be sure, and of self preservation be assured
There are no enemy combatants between him and me,
only the Republic for which we stand on bread lines
No medals of valor shall be awarded the walking wounded
This war ain't like others.
The price of honor ain't worth a bully pulpit
Go piss in the alley, and while you're there
find a cardboard mattress on which to spend the evening
It's getting colder than a witches tit
It's a night to freeze your toes off
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