sleepy eyes, and a routine morning coffee
shapes start spinning in my cup
the face of a mother and her young boy
the bright sun, swallowing their crop
they were waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
down
only for a dollar and a quarter
you and i will place an order
just one more cup of coffee
and another long year of poverty
upon their shoulders
as they're waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
the workday sure as hell aint getting shorter
meanwhile the price of my comfort aint getting any cheaper
and they're still waiting on a runway
for my plane to come
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