I'm trapped in a world. A world hat don't like my kind. Why you ask? `Cause I'm my kind. And they are they kind. Our kinds don't mix. Little Red men, Walking around in Giant Black suits. Giant Green men, Walking around in Pink, High-water bellbottoms with no t-shirts. You wanna know why? `Cause clothes make the man. They walk around looking up at me, But they eyes is really looking down. I get my hands dirty everyday trying to live, While they laugh and play at company picnics. I make they cars run. I make they cars clean. I make they house warm. I make everything, But I ain't got ish. I'm trapped here. I wanna be a farmer. Can't plant my seeds in asphalt. My children wanna be doctors and lawyers, Can't teach them what I don't know. Children wanna be born with Giant Black suits, Not Pink, High-water bellbottoms with no t-shirts. `Cause clothes make the man. They don't wanna make everything And get nothing. They wanna do nothing, And get everything. Poor children. Maybe I shouldn't fight to live. But that's all I know. To live is to fight. I'm so confused. All I se are Iron towers, And more Iron towers. With Little Red men, With their Little Red wives. I make everything. While they sit on they porch Drinking they high priced lemonade. I get it freshly squeezed. They buy new antenas, I use hangars(sometimes paper clips) They live to live, I live ready to die. I get on my knees and pray to God. They act like god, While they look up at me, With they eyes looking down.