[Intro – bassline + crowd noise] Mic check—one, two, for the rent that’s due. If freedom had a rhythm, it’d be taxed by the groove. [Verse 1] I’m back with the band that the bosses banned, Playin’ pink-slip blues with a mic in hand. Drummer hit that clock-in snare, Guitar cryin’ like it can’t afford health care. Stage lights flicker like the power bill late, But we still rock shows for exposure and fate. Banker Bob at the bar countin’ tips, Sayin’, “art’s an asset if it comes with clips.” [Hook – call & response] This stage! — built on unpaid dreams, This wage! — stuck in low-fi schemes. Late stage! — where the amps all hum, But the checks bounce back and the crowd goes numb. [Verse 2] Sound guy moonlights sellin’ stocks online, Bassline crashin’ like the housing decline. Merch table hustlin’, hope on credit, “Buy two shirts — the third’s synthetic.” I rhyme like receipts fallin’ from the ceiling, Groove so broke but the soul still dealing. This band don’t quit, we just reroute pain, Turnin’ layoffs to hooks and debt into gain. [Hook – bigger band backing] This stage! — where the bosses boast, Backstage! — where we burn that toast. Late stage! — the encore’s fake, But the crowd keeps clappin’ for the sound it makes. [Bridge – breakdown, spoken over bass solo] Now that’s what I call a stimulus package. One groove for the road, and two for the repo man. Somebody tell the Fed we’re flat broke in 4/4 time. [Verse 3 – crescendo] Corporate choir singin’ hallelujah stock price, While the janitor beatboxes—now that’s real life. Drummer on furlough, riff on relief, Capital’s a church and we’re payin’ for belief. Stage dive into debt, crowd can’t catch me, Banker Bob laughin’ backstage—“That’s sexy.” I said, “Yo Bob, you ever play a note that’s true?” He said, “Nah, but my money makes music too.” [Outro – fade out with funk riff & PA feedback] Lights dim, amps smoke, bass drops low, Welcome to the show we can’t afford to go.
