THE BOTTOM OF A WORKINGMAN'S BEER

well, i know who's president
but i don't know anyone who voted for him

can't empty this glass
it keeps filling up with all of my problems

video street fight
constant "boing bing" in the background

and there's a jar of purple eggs on the bar
oh, i begs to be so embalmed

c'mon Oracle... answer my questions
read the bubbles, which way is heaven?
from the bottom of a working man's beer?

the city of industry
sneered down her stacks at my muscles

like i was something to sweat,
just a truck, just a can for commercials

i told em, i told em,
you can't run this thing on just dazzle...

it sank like a tank in the mud
it was a comedy special

c'mon...join the expedition
see the ruins of a lost civilization...
at the bottom of a working man's beer

c'mon...join the migration
we're headed south, everybody's sinking...
to the bottom of a working man's beer

and it's cold and dark down here...
where your butt's in a sling, your nuts are in a vice
and those "pull yourself up" bootstraps are dungeon tight

how do you tell your kid that his old man's
been jerked around by an Invisible Hand?
the guys in the ties say "sir, we're doing all we can"
excuse me, Mr. Oracle, can i pay ya with food stamps?

i know who's president
...like it really matters?

he ain't wearing this belt...
the one that keeps gettin' tighter and tighter

i was weaned on the dream
that the fat of the land had no limit

yeah...my lap's gotten fat
but nothing good's gonna drop in it...

c'mon...join the inquisition
buried alive at the Cafe Mausoleum
it's me! it's me!
at the bottom of a working man's beer.

yeah...i know who's president...
you bet.