I’m stuck in a bind; a fight I can’t win;
Between work and home and what should have been.
I’m always’s wrong. They’re always right.
I don’t know why I’m even in this fight.
“It’s the American Dream,” is what they say.
I’m just dreaming of a much better day.
I need a job but can’t afford to quit.
It may me my fault, I must admit.
But the rich get ahead while I get held back.
I try to survive this assaulting attack.
Who am I to say these things?
I’m the Everyday Person who cannot sing.
I’m, the farmer and I’m the teacher.
I’m the trucker and I’m the preacher.
I’m the waitress and I’m the elderly.
I’m the student and I’m the orderly.
I’m the bartender and I’m the maid.
I’m the secretary and I’m underpaid
I’m the one who makes this nation great.
Praise the Everyday Person - don’t desecrate.