December '61. My Dad's wages light. Still on that salary We, all four, could sleep tight. Right now if you drank from That very same well, You'd need a run of luck To score a bed in a trick hotel.
Is this the legacy of Too much for too few That I see? The kind of legacy that's Tossin' some good men To their knees. The "Great Society's" Maligned concrete cage Sits dead and vacant now - At least it kept out rain. With all those corners cut The cracks grow wide and near. I heard some cash was saved But where it's gone ain't clear..
Who goes down next I don't know. I don't know nothin' Anymore. Tomorrow's legacy that's Layin' in state Awaits reprieve. I always thought that when a man goes down You do your best to pick him up. But how can the milk of kindness trickle down When it's syphoned off and cheats the cup?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
