They’ll give you just enough to stay afloat but never enough to swim away
You’ve given it your all and then some more
Bill collector made his bed at your door
You thought
The hoops and loops would end for you
But now it’s happening to
Your grandkids too
You can be
Anything
Go everywhere
But you’ll smell like shit
Within a week out there
So you take your pen and write your congressman
But your return address changes once Again
So you guess you’ll pray and join the local church
But it’s Another dead end in your search
It’s funny, it’s the same thing we’re all looking for
But by the time you ask for help
Your bloated body’s washed ashore
Wouldn’t it be nice
Just to swim?