PUSH THE CART BACK!

Verse 1 The parking lot is where nations confess. No speeches. No flags. No campaign signs. Just steel frames drifting across the asphalt, Carried by the gravity of, "Not my problem." Every abandoned cart Is a tiny monument To the religion of convenience. Verse 2 Empires don't always fall with explosions. Sometimes they rust. One neglected duty. One quiet excuse. One small surrender repeated Until selfishness becomes invisible. Every loose wheel points the same direction: Away from responsibility. Bridge (everything drops out except bass and drums) You say you love your neighbor? Then don't leave your cart Beside their door. You say you respect workers? Then stop making their job harder. You say you're raising good kids? They're watching. They're always watching. Breakdown PUSH THE CART BACK! Not tomorrow! PUSH THE CART BACK! Not "close enough!" PUSH THE CART BACK! I don't care if you're tired! I don't care if it's raining! I don't care if you're "just five seconds away!" PUSH. THE. CART. BACK! Final Verse History won't remember your grocery list. Nobody's writing books About aisle seven. But every ordinary day Asks ordinary questions. Who carries the weight? Who leaves it behind? Turns out... The revolution was eighteen feet away The whole time. PUSH THE CART BACK! Not tomorrow! PUSH THE CART BACK! Not "close enough!" PUSH THE CART BACK! I don't care if you're tired! I don't care if it's raining! I don't care if you're "just five seconds away!" PUSH. THE. CART. BACK!