Here’s a short disquisition on the blandishments offered to us by the high and mighty:
Fat of the Land by Chris Floyd
Well, here’s the whip
We’ve raised it high
Do what we say
And don’t you ask why
Now there’s the trough
It’s full of meat
You can have all you want
If you just keep us sweet
Do you get it now?
Are you down with the plan?
Just stay in line
And we’ll feed you the fat of the land
Here comes old Tiger
The smiling beast
With Boy Wonder
Holding his leash
They’ve got some business
With what you own
Just pay what they ask
And they’ll leave you alone
We know your number
We read your mail
From outer space
We can follow your trail
But don’t you worry
Don’t you fret
Our social networks
Ain’t hurt nobody yet
Sorry about your house
But it’s got to go
Someone must pay
For all the debts that we owe
But you don’t need it
It’s too big for you
And I know an old lady
With some room in her shoe
Is that your mother?
She looks real sick
Better call the ER
Get her there quick
They got a doctor
He don’t cost much
Just an arm and a leg
But he’ll throw in the crutch
You love your freedom
We love it too
That’s why we took it
So we can guard it for you
We’ll keep it safe
Locked in the vault
Every Fourth of July
You can take it for a walk
Do you get it now?
Are you down with the plan?
Just stay in line
And we’ll feed you the fat of the land
© 2012 by Chris Floyd