There are days I want to run, run away,
high-step across America, head south,
exit this country, The United States,
re-emerge across the border, head south,
enter Mexico without a passport,
as I know next to no Spanish, head south,
re-emerge in Costa Rica to surf,
enter Columbia, run east, head south,
decide to settle somewhere in Brazil,
as people know how to pronounce my name,
yet, to leave The United States, head south,
settle in a foreign land and retire.
I know I have nothing but my girlfriend,
wishing I had money in this country,
and no one has a dollar to offer,
not a red cent, except the IRS,
they leave me no richer than penniless,
take it all, no money means no future,
on the run, I leave the world far behind,
run, run, run far away from here, head south,
until this country treats its immigrants
no worse than the indigenous natives,
run away, no reason to stay, head south,
until someone in The United States
notices poverty helps no one live,
as there is nothing here but bad TV,
worthless, my time spent watching the world pass
away, people, places, nothing remains,
yet here I stay, I want to run, head south.
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