this again

 

what we say and what we do 

in this world of thieves 

can I count on you 

to stick it to me

in everyone we’ve got

a mini-me 

pocket dictator 

mirror of society 

and I get down 

thinking about it 

get up putting it 

into pockets

work it out 

then bring the lucre home 

trying to make sense

of these hangovers

it’s the curse of work

hardship of birth

and the wonders 

of you 

searching everywhere

for one beautiful thing 

most days I surrender

to the ugly truth  

I’d like to believe 

I was wrong all along 

these signs me nothing

everyone is smart

but I’m haunted by those

Phil Ochs songs

not that naive to believe 

anything since has been done 

and you’re the answer 

to these imponderable questions 

don’t think I ever 

learned my lesson