[Intro] [The stage is dark. A spotlight hits a double bass player. The bass walks a cool, creeping line.] [Rhythmic finger snaps: Snap... Snap... Snap…] Spoken [The Boomer Blood]: One, two, three, four... Start the count, boys. We’ve got work to do. Stay focused... Wait five years, and you might just get a promotion. [Verse 1] [The Young Blood] We… We… We have walked through the streets, Called it, “the land of the free,” bowed with opportunity I'm starting to lose count, but what do I see? Chains upon the “optimistically” “I started to realize?”, It’s just a joke under the lights, ‘Cause there ain't no such thing as "worker rights." It’s a sugar-coated story, a pie in the sky, But we don't get a slice—it’s just stacks of lies [Chorus] [The Young Blood & Ensemble] Of course, they lie to us, With that cheap mouth, and fraudulent minds Filling bags of wealth while squeezing out the life from us (While we walk the walk.) Working us down to our little white bones, And when the smoke dries, replace it with another force With no breaks, and no loans just packing weathering hope With a little bit of pay, just enough to live, Begging for the crumbs that they never give! [Verse 2: The Call-and-Response Duet] [The music stops walking and starts STOMPING. A second spotlight hits [The Boomer Boss]. He points an accusatory finger.] [The Boomer Boss]: Now listen here, kid, let me speak the truth, I’m sick of the whining from the modern youth! You say it's hard? You say it's a crime? [The Young Blood]: Yeah, 'cause I can't afford a nickel of your time! [The Boomer Boss]: You never work! You just sit and tweet! [The Young Blood]: I’m working three jobs just to stay on my feet! [The Boomer Boss]: We built this city with sweat and with stone! [The Young Blood]: Yeah, and now you’re sitting on a golden throne! [The Boomer Boss]: You’re soft! You’re lazy! You want it for free! [The Young Blood]: I just want the future that you stole from me! [Both Together - Harmonizing in anger]: And neither one of us is ever gonna agree! ‘Cause we’re working to the bone! [Bridge] [Tempo accelerates violently. Chaotic jazz piano solo ensues as the two singers glare at each other] [The Young Blood - Shouting]: Round and round the treadmill goes! [The Boomer Boss - Laughing]: Where does it stop? Nobody knows! [The Young Blood]: Running out of breath and running out of time! [The Boomer Boss]: Don't worry, kid... I'll keep the dime! [Chorus] [Maximum volume—The brass section is screaming now] [Ensemble]: Of course, they lie to us, With that cheap mouth, and fraudulent minds Filling bags of wealth while squeezing out the life from us (While we walk the walk.) With no breaks! With little pay! With the crumbs... that... they... never... give! [Outro] [The music stops abruptly. The Boomer Boss adjusts his tie calmly.] Spoken [The Boomer Boss]: Stop complaining. It's bad for morale. (He flips a single coin onto the floor. It spins... and spins... and spins...) (Sound of the coin falling flat.) [The Young Blood - Whispered]: ...Keep the change
