Unemployed

Unemployed
by Tom Flannery copyright 2008

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Lose your religion but not your job
close your eyes but your head still throbs
kids are sleeping you didn't come straight home
needed some time to be alone
Bill collectors they're an interesting bunch
never take days off they never take a lunch
President gonna pass a few hundred bucks along
for a plasma TV and a spit and a song

the few, the proud, the employed
and the rest to fill the void
the haves and the have mores
behind bolted doors
at the end of the day
with my head in disarray
what do I tell my kids sir?
what do I tell my kids?
when they say "I'm hungry daddy"
and they see you feeding his?
what do I tell 'em?
what do I tell 'em?

Easy way out is what they want
load up on something and out on a jaunt
where they wait on your with baited breath
ready to club you half to death
Like baby seals in Tiananmen square
airbrushed like you were never there
even the numbers soon well they'll leave you be
no longer counted....just storm debris

Unemployment lines and interviews
could force a sane man to sniff glue
the arrogance of those who sit
passing judgment on if I'm legit
or am I just some welfare cad
who pissed away all that he had
these days my kids are awake where the lay
they say "Daddy did you get a job today"

the few, the proud, the employed
and the rest to fill the void
the haves and the have mores
behind bolted doors
at the end of the day
with my head in disarray
what do I tell my kids sir?
what do I tell my kids?
when they say "I'm hungry daddy"
and they see you feeding his?
what do I tell 'em?
what do I tell 'em?