Oh, we gotta pretty good idea what we see here,
another free lunch, obviously out to lunch, and not so free,
living exclusively on sour driblets from mouth to hand,
before one has to finally face them hard realities ignored now.
Great, you can tell time by the numbers, but not their meanings,
at least we’re making progress from a couple of months ago,
when you drank in order to remain standing during your show,
as the crew held your rest together as a mannequin puppet.
Ha, don’t worry, because none of us would trade positions with you,
we’ll keep our sanity in exchange for wherever perks you delve in,
blowing fiery liquor for your audience’s roasting marshmallows,
and we haven’t even gotten to your actual entertainment portion yet.
Sorry, not a chance of that and it’s never been tempting either,
I know that I don’t only speak for myself when I say that’s tough luck,
it’s much better to honestly earn one’s way instead of stealing,
except this is a harder lesson for them who got it all so very easy.
Nah, we ain’t curious about the cash respecting your notorious profile,
gracing the cold sidewalk lying over them shards of two bottles,
on auction at a discount exactly like their short-lived previous owner,
with a mangled checkered smile blessing any stumbling passerby.
Awesome, and of course there are plenty of more worthy subjects,
relating emotional stories created specifically bringing tragedy to mind,
to dangle that tear above every cheek as a constant hapless memory,
with glasses decidedly tilted to always be able to swill and refill.
Sharwrong's Song 