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Working Poor

de Horse Feathers

We are young and we are weak.
Just as blank as we are bleak.
Too far gone in our heads.
We all live and work in the red.

We're cold,
we had done all we've been told.
There's no court for our case.
What failure gave us suits our taste.

We all bend, we all break.
We all forfeit what we make.
Too far gone, in our heads.
We all live and work in the red.

We're cold,
we had done all we've been told.
There's no court for our case.
What failure gave us suits our taste.

There's no money to our names.
Empty pockets to our graves.
There's no court for our case.
What failure gave us suits our taste.

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