A satire of status and debt-funded fear, and the pull to go ungenerous.
Words & music by Brody Bond · Written c. 2005
Give me a life
Give me a wife
Give me a raise
And a big tax break
I’m entitled to everything
Isn’t that why we’re free?
The good, the bad, and the pretty all live in this town
Where everyone is trying to gain their own ground
When the goal’s retiring, claim all that you can
Otherwise we might be insecure old men
Give me some debt
I gotta look good
And I can’t pay rent
To the wrong neighborhood
And the kids have to go to school
I want them to look cool
Chorus
Well, I am so afraid
That I will run out of friends, or sex, or money, honey
And you don’t want that for me
Oh, I’m no good, I’m bad, and I’m ugly,
And I hide it from this town
Where everyone is drowning
In the bliss of deafening sounds
Can we love each other, even do all that we can
God forbid we end up generous old men