Ah, it’s open season here my friend
It always is; it always has been
Welcome, welcome to the U.S.A.
We’re partying fools in the autumn of our heyday
And though we’re running out of everything
We can’t afford to quit
Before this binge is over
We’ve got to squeeze off one more hit
We’re workin’ it
Workin’ it

Soon you will be dancing face-to-face
With the limits of ambition and the scars of the marketplace
Welcome to the land of flame and fizz
Where you will learn that packaging is all that heaven is

We got the little black car, the little black dress
Got the guru, the trainer, the full court press
We got the software, hard drive, CD-ROM
We got the exploitation.com
We got the pager, cell phone, bootleg methaqualone
The media, the message: you are what you own
We got the agent, lawyer, lapdog, voyeur
Talk show, book deal, round mouth, square meal

We’re so busy covering our asses, we just can’t commit
“Oh, back off, don’t bother me, baby
Can’t you see I’m workin’ it”
Workin’ it

It’s plain to see Miss Liberty has not yet come of age
But, she loves to feed the animals as long as they’re locked up in the cage
And everybody knows the girl’s got balls of brass
Aw, kiss my ass

We’ve got a whole new class of opiates
To blunt the stench of discontent
In these corporation nation-states
Where the loudest live to trample on the least
They say it’s just the predatory nature of the beast

But, the barons in the balcony are laughing
And pointing to the pit
They say, “Aw look, they’ve grown accustomed to the smell
Now, people love that shit”
And we’re workin’ it.
Workin’ it

We got the short-term gain, the long-term mess
We got the suffocating, quarterly consciousness
Yes man, run like a thief

New York to Hollywood, hype and glory
Special effects, no story
Yes man, run like a thief

Workin’ it
Workin’ it

Well, you don’t know who the enemy is
You don’t know
You don’t know who the enemy is

Company man
Eight for me, one for you
(Workin’ it)
Very fair
Business as usual, business as usual

People like Imus, Sharpton and Stern, in our society constitute the metaphorical equivalent of running through a cow pasture and getting something on your shoe.

If one is a truly fastidious individual, the shoe will be wiped clean. If the event is a ‘make no never mind’, the odor being tolerable, and with no chance of tracking it on the carpet, it won’t

Further more, if the ‘new addition’ could be marketed as trendy upgrade in fashion design such that you could not be considered as a potential “A” list candidate without a pair, every ‘wannabe’ will want them and you’ll make a fortune.

Of course, you do so knowing that, should the true nature of the material ever come to light, you risk losing the whole shootin’ match.

Being clever enough, at the first sign of that risk, you will have cashed out all your stock, and
left everyone else hanging, holding the bag, while you laugh all the way to your bank in the Cayman Islands.

Morale: You can make Shinola from Shit, and know the difference!

Radio is big business, and so is the record industry. The corporate as well as the body politic, operate on the assumption that the people at large have short memories.

I have always maintained that there exists this contempt for the public mind and only in the face of extreme pressure will institutions act in good faith.

Those guys are race hustlers along with a bunch of big mouths that don’t know when to shut up! Why should we even care or focus on what they’re saying. There’s soooo many more important issues on our plate right now. No need to research this DAD, just throw it in the garbage can and forget about it. I’ll take it out to the street tonight for pickup tomorrow.

When I find the word supplanted by synthetic dogma, I feel compelled to utter the primal howl of protest.

I’ll leave to DM to reprise the details of the entire matter. He’s good at kind of stuff.