The Price of Being Beautiful and Ugly
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The Price of Being Beautiful and Ugly
Lay low and squint. Caress with your model hand the glass of glee.
Prices are ugly, I can’t deny it.
Wires are set up across borders, driving our trade surpluses or deficits.
The dream is to pay everybody enough. Though that goal is sure to fail.
Daring such entropy is a ticket to the shore of fascism.
Surplus value. Marx explained it……….. Core value, your parents explained it.
Though nobody explains why you’re paying rent.
Nobody tells the backs of the workers why they flee to earn money here in California.
Though we get it. We get the system.
Aye aye, Cap’n.
“You say you want a revolution?
Well you know, we all want to change the world”
Look through the haze of your alcohol Claim the vision to be yours.
Wages of our brothers and sisters remain viscerally low.
Negotiations and conjunctions, where do they lead?
Rhythm and connections, they don’t breathe.
Yet they march, trodding through the ideals of their ancestors and their descendants.
At least search. Paving the legal road with tar and dirt. A union.
Unions can be a compromise. Money is a compromise.
Watch. The haze fading away and promises arise.
Change scenes. Enter Audience and the National Bourgeois.
Hunger is the price of free trade. Or was it tariffs?
They eat. And they eat.
What do we eat? Or that’s the price of being paid?
They feast. And they feast.
Qué Feo. El precio de la mala educación.
Qué Feo. El camino que tomamos termina en ciclos de desgracia.
Y, sin embargo, se dictan, se benefician y también se destruyen a sí mismos.
Peo, ¿hay un precio diferente que podamos establecer?
Sí, se puede.
That’s the price we pay for not trying to start a revolution.
But the one to start a protected community.
Motion for ugly beauty. Verdict to build with you in mind.
Brew this welcome in this fancy wine.
