I wrote this song with a helmet on
Standing at the bottom of the ladder of success
Ducking stray bullets, hand grenades, and napalm
And staring up a secretary’s dress
The line is stalled ‘til someone falls
We’re all happy to see her go
She's no friend of mine
And she’s a space in line
10,000 more
And I’m a CEO!
And while Ross Perot blames Mexico
And Jesse Helms blames the blacks
From my vantage point
At the top of the pile
I’ll go on the attack!
With the blessing of my government
And good tidings all around
After all, they got where they are
By mowing their fellow men down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very realistic poem, indeed. Thought provoking Anjana