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
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