I guess I'll never stop,
I'll get so good I'll go professional,
Then open my own shop,
Invent a doodad to do it better,
Imprint my name on it,
Mass produce and ship it from overseas,
Hope the sweatshops install suicide nets,
Mark them up over one thousand percent,
Sell them for five bucks each,
Still not 'nough of the market to feel bad,
Less a king, more a leach,
Buy my own house,
Don't I deserve one, too?
The system paying me's already there,
When I'm rich 'nough I'll figure what to do.
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