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There's a Viet Nam vet with a cardboard sign	...	Now I'm stocking shirts in a Wal-Mart store
Sitting there by the left-turn line		Just like the ones we made before
Flag on his wheelchair flappin' in the breeze		Except this one came from Singapore --
One leg missing and both hands free.		I guess we can't make it here anymore.
No one's paying much mind to him
The VA's budget is just stretched too thin		Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin?
And now there's more coming back from the Mideast War.		Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I'm in?
We can't make it here anymore.		Should I hate 'em for having our jobs today?
		No -- I hate the men who sent the jobs away.
And that big old building was a textile mill		I can see 'em all now; they haunt my dreams
It fed our kids and it paid our bills		All lily-white and squeaky-clean
But they turned us out and they closed the doors		They've never known want; they'll never know need.
We can't make it here anymore.		Their sh*t don't stink and their kids won't bleed.
		Their kids won't bleed in their damn little war
You see those pallets piled up on the loading dock?		And we can't make it here anymore.
They're just gonna sit there 'till they rot
'Cause there's nothing to ship, nothing to pack		We'll work for food; we'll die for oil
Just busted concrete and rusted track		We'll kill for power and to us the spoils:
Empty storefronts around the square		The billionaires get to pay less tax;
There's a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere		The working poor get to fall through the cracks.
You don't come down here 'less you're looking to score		So let 'em eat jelly-beans; let 'em eat cake.
We can't make it here anymore.		Let 'em eat sh*t; whatever it takes.
		They can join the Air Force or join the Corps
And the bar's still open but man, it's slow		If they can't make it here anymore.
The tip jar's light and the register's low.
The bartender don't have much to say.		So that's how it is; that's what we got
The regular crowd's getting thinner each day		If the President wants to admit it or not
Some have maxed out all their credit cards;		You can read it in the paper or read it on the wall
Some are working two jobs and living in cars		Or hear it on the wind if you're listening at all.
'Cause minimum wage won't pay for a roof		Get out of that limo and look us in the eye
Won't pay for a drink. If you gotta have proof,		Call us on the cell phone and tell us all why
Try it yourself, Mr. C.E.O.		In Dayton, Ohio or Portland, Maine
See how far five-fifteen an hour will go		Or a cotton gin out on the great High Plains
Take a part-time job in one of your stores		That's done closed down, along with the school
I bet you can't make it here anymore.		And the hospital and the swimming pool
		And dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There's a high school girl with a bourgois dream		And there's rats in the alley and trash in the street
Just like the pictures in the magazine		Gang grafitti on a box-car door
She found on the floor of the laundromat.		We can't make it here
A woman with kids can forget all that.		Anymore....
If she comes up pregnant, what'll she do?
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith, live on hope?
High on Jesus and hooked on dope
When it's way too late to Just Say No
You can't make it here anymore.