Ticket 2 Ride

Pickers, packers, brushpoppers

Toilin’ sun up to sun down

A hard life, a life now

Masked strangers in town

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Bible and a whiskey

Singing, salt of the earth

Banker Ben holds the cards

He judges a man’s worth

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The world of the future past

Where each day is happy daze

Guns & butter, the American Dream

Our in cookie-cutter suburban maze

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Sculpted from truths, sown in battle

Opportunists preach to be our saviors

The enemy is now inside the wire

Dressed as false prophets and enslavers

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Uncle Sam and Mother Goose are fiction

Chapter and verse, it’s now perverse

The greatest threat to our soul is us

We’re alone in this upside down universe