STRESS

S-t-r-e-s-s,
That is how I get depressed.
We work hard all day,
No one's lazy,
But at the end of the month
Our bank account is hazy-
It's gone on so long I'm feeling crazy,
And I can't see the end in sight.

My friends are driving fancy cars,
And I sigh as I glance at the mileage on ours,
Some go on vacation- vacation, what's that?
It's not for people on our side of the tracks.

The live in the southwest, we leave in the east,
Their restaurants are A-rated, ours all have Bs,
and as I look into the future,
I just can't see when we'll get out of this poverty.

S-t-r-e-s-s,
That is how I get depressed.
Always concerned about the bottom line,
Counting pennies every time-

And I don't understand how we can be
So high above the nation's line of poverty
And still be having trouble keeping afloat,
Treading water, we just plug the holes in our boat...

How many years of fiscal toil and strife
Will we endure to get financially upright?