American Dream

I write to escape the pain
Though I'm supposed to be living in the game,
I'm drowning in it all the same
And since I got a good job that's payin
I feel ashamed
I'm supposed to be middle class, higher ranking
Instead, I'm fallin behind on my banking
Havin to get on a payment plan for any bill
higher than a Franklin.
The economy, they tell us, is tankin'
And while I sit here ranklin', another bill comes
due and another two are late
It's past the date for a national conversation on
class that doesn't involve hate
Your neighbors drive Cadillacs, but inside, they wait
For payday to come three days away
They say everything's OK, while the Visa bill stays
at nine thousand, ten thousand dollars
Never answer the phone, the bank's the caller
And your house is the last shred of hope you have that
links you to the fictionalized dream world they call
"middle class."
It ain't the haves and the have-nots
It's the "think they haves" and "don't gots"
Nobody's poor as long as we can still go to the store
and get a bit more so our kids' tummies
are not sore,
What are we kidding ourselves for?
So we smoke and we drink so we don't have to think
about how close we are to the brink
And we sink further, believe the conservative furor
that we could only make it if we pull ourselves up by the straps
of our boots.
That's uncouth, and they're playing us fast and loose
Here's the truth: our wages aren't enough
To get us through the month without having to sell some stuff
And my life isn't supposed to be that tough!
Put off paying for the air and heat comin out my vents
A dollar bill found on the street could be heaven sent.
Sometimes I can't take it.
Even Clark Kent had to be Superman just to make it.