Next coming is our jobs,
Then the banks will want everything back,
We've pretended was ours,
Like my daughter pretends she's a grocer,
Well, she might have to be.
Course, it's hard to get a job in this world,
When you're living on the streets, and you're three.
The thought of everything disappearing,
Should not be something real,
It's just helpful as a thought exercise,
To understand the deal,
Of existence.
Soci'ty's meant to be,
A safeguard against an uncertain world,
Not the source of all your anxiety.
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