I'm aimlessly cruising down the road.
My tire seems to be a bit low.
With not much of anything in sight,
I have to find some place to go.
Searching for a gas station...
Oh, there's one over there!
I pull into the parking lot.
Gee, I hope that they have air.
Thankfully, they do,
In a shiny container without a single dent.
There's a sign on my possible salvation,
Proclaiming, "Air, 75 cents."
My mouth drops open in surprise.
I feel like pulling out my hair.
What is this world coming to,
When you have to pay for air?
It's almost as if you have to pay to breathe,
In the "land of the free."
How's a person to survive,
When they're as broke as me?
Seventy-five cents for air,
Over three dollars a gallon for gas.
What happened to our economy?
The government needs a kick in the ass!
Instead of buying gold toilet seats,
And financing wars waaaay over there,
Maybe the president should figure out
A way to provide free air.
My tire goes flat as I search
For someone to hear my voice.
Sighing, I put three quarters in.
It's not like I have a choice.