To all the nickle shit artists out there

I know you like to count your beans
I know you like to play your game
But you ain't never really been out there
Where the weathers not fair and it's heavy pain

You've lived inside your air conditioned world
You've lived by your calculators and cell phones
But you have no idea of the sacrifice needed
For what it takes to build even a modest home

You're too busy with your golf
You're too busy with your paper lies
You're too busy to understand that's it's
Only by the strong's mercy that you don't die

I hate all the weaklings lately
Especially the ones who don't know they are
They think they're the normal ones
Because they have this watch this tv this car

And oh yeah their credit is great
They've got it all lined up and straight
And digging a ditch straight to Hell
Like here comes the ending and they can't wait

But it's going to be death all over eternity
Abstract expressionistic imaginative and real
And oh how they think they know what's coming
But they only know how they feel

In their small little world
With their fill in the blank cards
Their statements as to what is policy
And what is and isn't supposed to be hard

They are the stench of garbage rotting
They are the squirming worms maggots and flys
That live off and around the efforts of others
And will do so until called upon to die

Hell isn't a big giant monster
A beast out to rip out your guts
It's the nagging bragging sagging dragging
Around their sorry butts

Right before your eyes
Right before anything next in line
That they always try to cut into
But they ain't gitten

In front of mine

Cause I ain't got one
All I have is this lonely heart
So go ahead and bring out your dead
There's always room for one more

In the cart


Neils
8:33 pm
11/19/2008