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Wednesday, April 20

We Can't Make It Here Anymore

From one of our better and lesser known songwriters James McMurty. And no. I still don't care about the Pope. - Missouri Mule

We Can't Make It Here Anymore
Vietnam vet with a cardboard sign Sitting there by the left turn sign
Flag on the wheelchair flapping in the breeze, One leg missing, both hands free
No one's paying him much mind, to him The V.A. budget's stretched so thin
And there's more comin' home from the Modest war
We can't make it here anymore

That big ol' building was the textile mill. It fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors. We can't make it here anymore
See all those pallets piled up on the loading dock. They're just gonna set there till they rot
"Cause there's nothing to ship, nothing to pack, Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square. There's a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don't come here 'less you're looking to score
We can't make it here anymore

The bar's still open but man it's slow. The tip jar's light and the register's low
The bartender don't have much to say. The regular crowd gets thinner each day
Some have maxed out their credit cards. Some are workin' two jobs and livin' in cars
Minimum wage won't pay for a roof won't pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO, See how far $5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can't make it here anymore

High school girl with a bourgeois dream, Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the Laundromat. A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what'll she do, Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope? High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When its way late to just say no
You can't make it here anymore

Now I'm stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store, Just like the ones we made here before
"Cept this one came fro Singapore, I guess we can't make them here anymore
Should I hate the people for the shade of their sin, Or the shape of their eyes or the shape that I'm in
Should I hate'em for having our jobs today No, I hate the men that sent the jobs away

I can see them now they haunt my dreams, All lily white and squeaky clean
They've never known want, they've never known need Their shit don't stink and their kids don't bleed
Their kids won't bleed in the gawd-damn war
And we can't make it here anymore

We work for food We die for oil. Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax . The working poor get to fall thought the cracks
Let'em eat jellybeans, let'em eat cake. Let'em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can't make it here anymore

And that's how it is That's what we got If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read in the paper Read it on the walls Hear it on the wind if you're listening at all
Get out of that limo Look us in the eye Call us on the cell phone Tell us all why
In Dayton, Ohio Or Portland, Mine Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains

That's done. Closed down along with the school, And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat. There's rates in the alley And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on the boxcar door
We can't make it here anymore

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