Legacy

December '61.

my Dad's wages light.

Still on that salary

we, all four, could sleep tight.

Right now if you drank from

that very same well,

you'd need a run of luck

to score a bed in a trick hotel.

Is this the legacy of

too much for too few

that I see?

The kind of legacy that's

tossin' some good men

to their knees.

The "Great Society's"

maligned concrete cage

sits dead and vacant now -

at least it kept out rain.

With all those corners cut

the cracks grow wide and near.

I heard some cash was saved

but where it's gone ain't clear..

Who goes down next I don't know.

I don't know nothin'

anymore.

Tomorrow's legacy that's

layin' in state

awaits reprieve.

I always thought that when a man goes down

you do your best to pick him up.

But how can the milk of kindness trickle down

when it's syphoned off and cheats the cup?