“For a Few Dollars” by Trevor Witt
For a few dollars more, I won’t take a lunch break,
For a few dollars more, I will stay late, even though my partner is waiting at home.
For a few dollars more, I will clean, and clean, and clean.
I submit my body for your service, as your tool, to use as you wish.
For a few dollars, I prostitute myself,
For a few dollars, I declare that I am your servant,
For a few dollars, I cannot refuse an order.
I am your soldier, carrying out your commands, right or wrong, no matter my needs.
For a steady paycheck, no matter how small,
For the predictable ability to pay rent,
For the ability to buy food on a regular basis,
I am a slave to my hourly wage.
For the dream that I might wake up from this cycle,
For the belief that I can dig myself out of this pit,
For the love of the struggle, that I might feel alive, for a moment,
I am devoted to my work.
For money, I run this race,
By money, I am displaced,
By money, I am crushed,
By money, my worries are hushed.
Servant, prostitute, soldier, laborer, businessman,
We are all the same, working for the fat cats who run this game.
Though we love what we do, we do it for them.
Take a moment and ask yourself, what will you do for you?
“Why I Write” by Trevor Witt
I want to bleed truth in my songs,
So you can feel my pain as you sing along,
I want to write verses that carry hearses,
And break the chains of fear and curses.
I want those red drops to ooze and coagulate,
For my words to heal wounds and recuperate,
To show you you can choose to have power over fate,
To help you feel peace, like when you meditate.
I want life to flow from my songs,
To get you high, like smoking bongs,
To wake you up, like banging gongs,
To end wars and fights, and to redress wrongs.
I want the helpless to feel hopeful,
The baby calf to feel like a mighty bull.
I want to brighten your day and obliterate the dull,
Dreary, destitute thoughts which fill your skull.
If I can reach, just once, your inner being,
Then maybe I can start believing,
In that Connection which binds us all,
And hear, in silence, G-d’s thunderous call.
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