Cup-Runneth-Over Kind Of Guy.

Give me a moment while I struggle

With my first-world troubles:

I'm not fit for consumption

Have lost the means of production

Been shot into space

Where I disintegrate and orbit

With the rest of the junk

Lost the funk, never found the soul

Been wrapped in plastic and buried in a hole

Where I'll take a thousand years to breakdown

So get me out of this town

Give me clean country air to pollute

Land rights to dispute

Holes to dig, minerals to spruke

Forests to cut down and burn

Its about the cash at every turn

You heard me: I am the left and the right

And everything in between

Nobody knows the horrors I've seen

I've punched, stabbed, kicked, shot,

White-anted colleagues, lost the plot

Losing my hair, growing fat,

A killer with the mind of a bureaucrat

I salute the flag when it suits me

Dismembered more bodies than I care to remember

I find women and immigrants so hard to please

I just keep them locked up or on their knees

The poor - even worse, so I see they remain poor

And call it "aspirational", only it's the reverse

Because, at the end of the day, its all about

Protecting my salary, my gratuity,

My bonus, my pension, my annuity

I'm a white man out of time

Committing white collar crime

Its open season on reason

And I'm taking back what's mine

Forget your glass-half-full

I'm a cup-runneth-over kind of guy

And this is my fifteen minutes

I'm not looking for forgiveness

This... this is my time to shine

© shaun patrick green 2019