Lyrics:

The man at the bank said, 'Oh, let's not talk percentages'
You work a fourteen hour day, and still have two mortgages
You asked the state for aid
They gave you an ad campaign that didn't help
You took your family and joined in the urban sprawl
Can't see the stars as well but you're near the mall
Don't know where you stand no more
In line at a convenience store that's way too long
Used to work your land, fed a thousand mouths
Now you eat their shit for the money now
Emptied your heart to fill your bank account
Well, I should talk, I'm just the same
Buy my records down at the corporate chain
I tell myself I shouldn't be ashamed, but I am

So adolescence made her an activist
Now she's the one who does all the lecturing
They got their eighteen holes
She told them to dig one more, the dream is dead
Won't eat their food or wear their clothes
Always wants to know where her money goes
But will shell it out for filling up her nose
So run it up, I'll run my mouth
But never mind the shit that I sing about
Because I'd sell myself to buy a fucking house

Twelve thousand square foot, four car garage
Tennis court, swimming pool, in the backyard
I know it can seem like a lot
That's why I pay someone to clean it up
We're going to clean it up
My big house