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Underclass
 
Where do you come from Redneck boy?
I come from the trailer park.
Why do you come here Redneck boy?
I come for a rumor of work.
Who do you know here Redneck boy?
The folks at the Baptist Church.
I know all their songs
and I sing along
and they help with my job search.


Where do you come from brown-eyed boy
I come from the trailer park.
Why do you come here brown-eyed boy?
I come for a rumor of work.
Who do you know here brown-eyed boy?
The folks at the Catholic Church.
I know their Spanish songs
and I sing along
and they help with my job search.


Where do you come from Southern son?
I come from the trailer park.
Why do you come here Sharecropper kin?
I come for a rumor of work.
Who do you know here Southern son?
The African Methodist Church.
I know all their songs
and I sing along
and they help with my job search.


Why do you swagger, working man
in your scuffed work boots, and your ragged jeans?
'Cause I'm a man with callused hands
and I know what hard work means.

But why do you strut, with your chest thrust out
as though you're as good as I?
'Cause I've a code, no excuse is owed
to you as to my reasons why
I'll be a workin' man 'til I die.


Where's there a place for such as you
in a world of corporate farms
where we've closing out the factories, the mills and the mines
and the EPA won't let you work the pipelines
where Google's obsoleting human drivers for trucks
and cars need programming, not shade-tree shops
and you're stuck on the red wrong side
of the modern-day cultural divide
as the American Dream has died?

You can get a long way on bullheaded pride
alone
and my calluses aren't quite gone
and I'll find work, or move on -
begin
again,
just like it's always been
for the American working man.

By tony parsons

© 2016 tony parsons (All rights reserved)

 

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