>> And this one, I'm still referring to the aircraft that pass
over the campus all too frequently.
Goes like this.
A prayer. God, I need a job because I need money.
Here the world is, enjoyable with whiskey, women, ultimate weapons and class.
But if I have no money, then the wife gets mad at me, I can't drink well,
the armed oppress me and no boss pays me money.
But when I work, oh, I get paid, the police are courteous
and I can have a drink and breathe air.
I feel classy.
I am where the arms are.
The wife is wife, indeed.
The world is interesting, except I have to be indoors all day and take shit
and make weapons to kill outsiders with.
I miss the air and smell that paid work stinks when done for someone else's profit, so I quit.
Enjoy a few flash days and air, drunk.
Then, I need a job again.
I'm caught in a steel cycle.