song profile

Closer the end than the middle

I didn’t start out with a lot
But worked hard most the time
I never made it to the top
But what I had was mine

My leaders say I should pay more
To help the poor and needy
I tried to tell them of my plight
But they just say I’m greedy

Black Bart once said, 
That he worked hard,
For honor and for riches
But on his corns to long they’ve tread
Those fine haired sons of (bleep)

As Bart turns over in his grave
And my corns now they tread
Those fine haired sons of government
Are trying to take my bread

Those fine hairs claim to know me well
They say I am middle classed
Because of this I should pay more
To make sure others last

I disagree with all they say
Don’t think I’m in the middle
I think I’m closer to the end
Cause I had to pawn my fiddle
Oh God, oh how
Who’s the bad guy now
Oh God, oh how
Who’s the real, bad guy now

Those fine haired sons of those elites
Say that they’ll take care of me
If I just give a little more
They can help the sick and poor

Those fine haired sons of Congress plead
And claim they know just what I need
I have the will to disagree
But they’ll still take, until I bleed

Those fine hairs claim to know me well
They say I am middle classed
Because of this I should pay more
To make sure others last

I disagree with all they say
Don’t think I’m in the middle
I’m a whole lot closer to the end
Cause I had to pawn my fiddle
Oh God, oh how
Who’s the bad guy now
Oh God, oh how
Who’s the real bad guy now


By David Henley
July 4th, 2012