And let me have all the freedom I need
Let me write my scarred frustrations
on this paper and make the pen bleed
Time wounds all heels and sowing this literary crop unreaps the mighty seed ...
We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.
We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
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