Some Kind Of Golden Rule


It’s not communism for caring
Or socialism for denying the communism
It’s not liberalism for daring
To defy a state of anti-capitalism

I’m not a right-winged Cardinal
Because I’m not a left-winged Blue Jay
And I’m not an outspoken feminist
Because I’m a girl with something to say

I don’t hug a lot of trees
Or clean up a lot of ducks
I don’t wear bellbottomed jeans
Or dwell on fate and luck

I’m simply a teenaged-woman
Who thinks it should be simple
To open your eyes and look around
And see that our world’s crippled

There’s a child on that doorstep
And a fetus in that trash bin
And there’s the man that gambles away
A lottery ticket he’ll never win

There’s a hit-and-run woman
Who was only crossing the street
And another person in the car
Who couldn’t own that woman’s crushed feet

Take a minute to realize
We’re busy putting Chihuahuas in sweaters
While there are men on benches
With no blankets for the colder weather

If all women are out for gold
And men only for sex
Then we’ve stopped caring about
The hearts we break and vex

We have become the characters
That no one dares to love
We’ve lost the underdogs
We hoped would rise above

We’ve lost sight
Of what we used to cherish
And sooner or later
Our souls will be charred and garish

Because our Golden Rule is tinfoil
Our tinfoil is trashed
And if our trash is piling up
Our humility dies fast.


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