Crooked Suits and County Lines

. Same tie. Same grin. Same hand in my pocket

again. They pave dirt roads to cut school funds. Smile on screens

while they load up guns. Say, "Trust me, friend," then raise

that rent. Preach 'bout work while they never sweat. Black cars parked

by the new courthouse. New marble floors but my lights go out.

Mama got two jobs, still showed on time. They call it

freedom, I call it lies. Crooked suits and county lines.

Big men livin' off poor folks' lives. They shake hands, we break our