Dying Wages

You've stopped moving at the speed of something beautiful

And you're feeling too worn down to hold the light

Your pen is mighty but the paper's turned to ashes

And this candle isn't long enough to keep us warm tonight

The god damn devil who wrote the contract

Knew you were dying to earn some wages

And wouldn't read the dirty details in the margins of the page

I tried to take you to the places that you dreamed of

But we couldn't bear the cost of gasoline

And I wish I had some bootstraps to hold on to