Things aren't what they used to be,
Or that's the way it seems to me.
Old rules don't count- just win the game!
Amass a fortune. Make a name.
If it feels good who's to resist?
God forbid that you get pissed!
We chose to dance- and dance for free,
But fiddlers will collect their fee.
"Minds must be broad," is what we're taught.
If there's a price, it can be bought.
Where all this leads we're finding out.
Where all this leads leaves little doubt.
It took a while, but here we are.
We're finding out we went too far.
Who can fix it? Is it too late?
Or- who can make the crook-ed straight?
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