Prosperica

Blessed be the ones who got it right
For theirs is the monopoly
On the only afterparty
That's worth going to
Peace be with the ones who see the light
And charge the rest of us admission
To something that we're missing
They call critical

Am I coming of age?
Or going to waste?
Or missing the point entirely?

What if God so loved
Middle-class America
That he sent his one and only gun
To wage the war on drugs
And whosoever stands
Where the party line demands
We'll get to say I told ya so
When all of us are dead

Blessed be the kids who grew up quick
Behind artificial fences
And tranquilize offenses
Like their parents do
Peace be with the man who never quits
Until he's having his first heart attack
From an unexpected market crash at 42

Am I coming of age?
Or going to waste?
Or missing the point entirely?

What if God so loved
Middle-class America
That he sent his one and only gun
To wage the war on drugs
And whosoever stands
Where the party line demands
We'll get to say I told ya so
When all of us are dead

What if God so loved
Middle-class America
That he sent his one and only gun
To wage the war on drugs
And whosoever stands
Where the party line demands
We'll get to say I told ya so
When all of us are dead
They'll get to say I told ya so
When all of us are dead