Blowhard Nation

© Stephen Fearing 2016 (Victoria, BC)

I don’t want to live in a blowhard nation
With the king in a tinsely crown
When the whole thing wobbles
And the wheels come off
Well you know what’s gonna go down
It’s the same sad story
‘Bout the power and the glory
And the big shots living uptown
It’s the old rat race
So get ready for the chase
‘Cause the fat cats are gaining ground

I got up this morning
And I grabbed me a paper
To read up on the low lowdown
The front-page feature
Was a weird looking creature
With a rug and a jowly frown
Some of my sinister neighbours
Are rattling the sabers
And the circus is coming to town
It’s like a bad tattoo
And there’s nothing you can do
I could sure use a stiff drink now

Well they all line up
For Christ almighty
But there ain’t no spine in the words
When the talk the resurrection
They’re thinking the election
It’s the saddest thing I ever heard
And the whole debate
Has a sickening weight
Like a steer when the hammer comes down
When you see the cross
Well you better get lost
‘Cause they’re gonna burn something down

See the breadlines growing
And the headlines crowing
It’s as bad as it’s ever been
It’s all talk talk talking
While the whole town’s walking
Down the boulevard of broken dreams
And easy money
Is as sweet as honey
To a hick hanging off of a plough
But make no mistake
When they’re showing you the cake
They’ll never let you eat it now

Make no mistake
When they’re showing you the cake
They’ll never let you eat it now

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