Credo

Would you like to buy a little happiness, Would you like to
buy a little soul, Would you like to dream a little life, Would
you like to fain a little control, Kiss the cook and swallow
the food, Bite the waiter; lick the mood.
There is a sale for those who can afford not to care, There
is a sale on nowhere.
Well she’s had plastic surgery on her soul, But I swear you
can’t tell it from the real thing, She couldn’t keep up with
the Joneses so she just laughed at them, Every joker wants to
be the king, Buy low; sell high, Everything is yours, Just leak
your poison; you don’t have to worry about the cures.
There is a sale for those who can afford not to care, There
is a sale on nowhere.
Just shrug off injustice with another line, Just make the space invaders pay
another fine, Talk about how you earned it; how you worked so hard,
And how anyone could do the same if they weren’t so full of lard.
But it’s just another day of all you can take, And our glorious someday is
always on the make, But there’s never a care that’s more real than you are fake,
For those who can afford to say let them eat cake, Well it’s easy to ask what
are you worried about, When you make the weather and you thrive on the drought,
When you’re the man who puts the with in the without, When you sell all your
beliefs for the dime of a doubt.
The only thing that’s not for sale is mercy.