To live here, we must keep a balance sheetBecause, on top of our “nut” (as we call it),
The moment that our sneakers hit the street
Twenty five bucks vanishes from our wallet.
Our monthly take home pay may not be pretty
But we’ll spend every spare dime till we’re dead
To do as much as we can in this city
And paint it our own custom shade of red.
So we all grace these mean streets to the limit
Of what we make here, and a little more.
If there’s a profit, we will gladly skim it
To buy admittance through the members’ door
And pinch our pennies in a Red Queen’s Race
To make us feel as if we own the place.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells