Come on
Come on everybody let's live the middle class American dream.
That's right you have to own that two-story house,
With a mini van parked in the garage,
Kiss your wife on the cheeks on Sunday afternoons
While you burn chicken and hot dogs on that brand new propane grill.
Little Suzie and Jimmy chasing spot around the backyard
As you and the neighbor talk about those Dallas Cowboys sipping on a cold brew.
No one knows your dirty little secrets,
Daddy's daily two shots of whiskey to stand spending time with the family,
while Mommy pops Valiums just to be able to cook dinner.
They're hard working Americans, so don't tell them what to do.
Suzie kisses all the little boys at school cause Daddy doesn't give her enough attention,
And Jimmy's on Ritalin cause he's too hyper or maybe he just wants to be heard?
Come on everybody we can join the GOP
And go to Sunday service and listen to the priest yell about sin and eternal damnation
While he secretly thinks about his alone time with that quiet little alter boy.
Everybody thinks it is so admirable that his single
working mother got him involved in Sunday services,
As they talk about her infidelities over cocktails.
All unaware that years down the road that quiet little
alter boy will turn up dead. Just another victim of addiction drowned in his own
vomit from too much booze and smack during the night before.
He used to be such a nice little boy.
Come on everybody let's sell our souls to God.
All of us too afraid to think and decide on our own,
that we have to wait for an act of God to change our ways.
All of us too afraid to praise Lucifer.
That rebel who got tired of being pushed aside by our father who is in heaven.
That rebel who was tired of being a member of God's second-rate race of slaves.
He and the other angels forced into a life of servitude by a tyrannical dictator,
The Angels, hah, nothing more than the Africans of biblical history.
So come on everybody let's live the middle class American dream,
And find ourselves drowning in debt and despair a slave to God's word.
Come on everybody let's live the middle class American dream.
That's right you have to own that two-story house,
With a mini van parked in the garage,
Kiss your wife on the cheeks on Sunday afternoons
While you burn chicken and hot dogs on that brand new propane grill.
Little Suzie and Jimmy chasing spot around the backyard
As you and the neighbor talk about those Dallas Cowboys sipping on a cold brew.
No one knows your dirty little secrets,
Daddy's daily two shots of whiskey to stand spending time with the family,
while Mommy pops Valiums just to be able to cook dinner.
They're hard working Americans, so don't tell them what to do.
Suzie kisses all the little boys at school cause Daddy doesn't give her enough attention,
And Jimmy's on Ritalin cause he's too hyper or maybe he just wants to be heard?
Come on everybody we can join the GOP
And go to Sunday service and listen to the priest yell about sin and eternal damnation
While he secretly thinks about his alone time with that quiet little alter boy.
Everybody thinks it is so admirable that his single
working mother got him involved in Sunday services,
As they talk about her infidelities over cocktails.
All unaware that years down the road that quiet little
alter boy will turn up dead. Just another victim of addiction drowned in his own
vomit from too much booze and smack during the night before.
He used to be such a nice little boy.
Come on everybody let's sell our souls to God.
All of us too afraid to think and decide on our own,
that we have to wait for an act of God to change our ways.
All of us too afraid to praise Lucifer.
That rebel who got tired of being pushed aside by our father who is in heaven.
That rebel who was tired of being a member of God's second-rate race of slaves.
He and the other angels forced into a life of servitude by a tyrannical dictator,
The Angels, hah, nothing more than the Africans of biblical history.
So come on everybody let's live the middle class American dream,
And find ourselves drowning in debt and despair a slave to God's word.
boogerblood:
did you write this?