Fat Of The Land

I add it up

I count it out

Consider all the figures

To realize that i've been cheated

I've seen their clothes

I've seen their cars

I've stepped in park-side mansions

Enough to know i've been mistreated

But then i take the bus from cullerton to 95th street

I take my daughter to their parks

I take the medicine the state provides for healthy workmen

Better on their stamps than in their cart

Did i smell anger, anger

Don't let it be my undertaker

No, thank them, thank them, for keeping me alive

They're welcome to their dollar

They'll have their cake and we'll have ours as we drink on their dime

I walk among the glass steel towers

I borrow books and records

I glean the excess entertainment

And though i'm fine to pay for mine, not if it keeps my hands bound

I'm all for work, just not containment

I'll praise a god who gives a dirty hand a worthy living

I'll praise a mother who feeds her child

I'll thank my lucky stars the rich will waste what they're not giving

Then gladly take what's rightly ours

Did i smell anger, anger,

Don't let it be my undertaker

No, thank them, thank them, for keeping me alive

They're welcome to their dollar

They'll have their cake and we'll have ours as we drink on their dime

Did i smell anger?

Anger?