"Nothing Works"

The factory's gone. The town's grown thin. Still, we smile

through the shape we're in. The preacher says, "The Lord provides."

But the pantry's bare and the hope runs dry. If nothing works,

what's left to break? Is it the soul, the will,

the give, the take? We hold the line though the world derails.

If nothing works, has anything failed? They build new roads,

they print new bills. Raise the tide, but we're stuck uphill.

The farmer plants, but the skies don't rain. They say it's progress,