Mr. Well-Off

I see you, Mr. Well-Off

Sitting in the coolest apartment in the hippest part of town.

 

But do you see us?

Living in our parents' basements, our uncles' guest rooms, our aunts' attics...or sharing a cramped, dreary space with six of our closest friends?

 

I see you, Mr. Well-Off

Wearing the flashiest clothes from the trendiest stores.

 

But do you see us?

In our threadbare sweaters, jeans with holes from overuse and not for fashion's sake?

Jackets we bought when our favorite department store had a sale?

 

Do you see us?

 

Because I see you, Mr. Well-Off

Sipping on your 18-year single malt Scotch...neat, of course

While we throw back another shot of Jack and another beer.

Do you see us, Mr. Well-Off?

 

I see you -- in your prestigious job at that big-name company.

And I know you see us...working at the bars and coffee shops and restaurants you patronize when you're not at work.

 

But Mr. Well-Off...I see you

Using three credit cards to pay each other off -- taking out a five-year loan to pay them all.

 

I see you...strapped for cash and playing it cool because there's nothing left in the bank 'til payday.

 

I see you...taking your girl to the dive where I work and saying it's cool because it's ironic.

 

No worries, Mr. Well-Off: I won't blow your cover.

For you and I are both living the new American Dream. Make that, American Nightmare:

 

Live in debt until you die -- then it's someone else's problem.

 

If it's good enough for our government, it's good enough for us!

 

And as the song says, "we'll never be royals..."

 

We'll never be Trumps, either.

 

So, Mr. Well-Off, let's both make do the best we can. Just do me a favor...

 

Save me a glass of that Scotch.