THE BALLAD OF MONROE STREET

The silence broken by a chain saw's buzz

Falling down a tree that was.

All in the name of fleeting fame

For hopes of being in the game.

No song for a plant to cry

Just a little more beauty left to die.

It's only the price we pay

When fools pretend to play.

PUBLIC BENJAMINS

Had enough of your praise
Now I want a RAISE!

I know money is owed everywhere
But do I look like I care?

Sure the city is short on cash
And the rats are feasting on our trash.

Think of how my credibility will soar
When no one around me makes more!