December '61 my Dad's wages light
Still, on that salary, we all four could sleep tight
Right now if you drank from that very same well
You'd need a run of luck to score a bed in a trick hotel
Is this the legacy of too much for too few that I see?
The kind of legacy that's tossin' some good men to their knees
The "Great Society's" maligned concrete cage
Sits dead and vacant now - at least it kept out rain
With all those corners cut the cracks grow wide and near.
I heard some cash was saved but where it's gone ain't clear..
Who goes down next I don't know
I don't know nothin' anymore
Tomorrow's legacy that's layin' in state awaits reprieve
I always thought that when a man goes down you do your best to pick him up
But how can the milk of kindness trickle down when it's siphoned off and cheats the cup?
