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Where People's Priorities Lie
Many of my poems are lyrics to songs I have written; some are awaiting a tune. This is one.
They've got a forty foot
trailer On an eighth of an acre It's home tho' the livin'
is hard Their fondest wish Was the satellite dish That's takin' up half
of the yard. Daddy's no jerk He's allergic to work But somehow the family copes The welfare's well spent And Momma's content As long as she follows
her soaps Some politicians Like nuclear fissions To solve power problems in haste But not one would buy land Near Three Mile Island Or know what to do with the waste Missiles and rockets Are pickin' our pockets While children go hungry to bed To me it's like sinnin' To say that there's winnin' A war that leaves everyone dead Well are people pure crazy Or is my thinkin' hazy? Not sure should I laugh, should I cry? What drugs are they under? It sure makes you wonder Where people's priorities lie It seems almost funny Some people love money When love is a thing you can't buy The kids are alone 'Cause Mom's never home And they see Dad just when he stops by Both parents have lovers To try to recover The meaning and value of life But I know I'm wealthy 'Cause my kids are healthy And I love making love to my wife Well are people pure crazy Or is my thinking hazy? Don't know should I laugh, should I cry? What drugs are they under? It sure makes you wonder Where people's priorities lie.
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