We saw James McMurtry in concert at The Latitude 62 last night in Talkeetna. He wrote this song in 2004. Sadly, it's still relevant for a lot of people in our country today. You can read all the lyrics at his website, even download the song for free if you show a little love for the Occupy movement.We Can't Make It Here Anymore*
Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won't pay for a roof, won't pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far 5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can't make it here anymore
High school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what'll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it's way too late to just say no
You can't make it here anymore
Now I'm stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
'Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can't make it here anymore
Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I'm in
Should I hate 'em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They've never known want, they'll never know need
Their sh@# don't stink and their kids won't bleed
Their kids won't bleed in the da$% little war
And we can't make it here anymore
Will work for food
Will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
Let 'em eat jellybeans let 'em eat cake
Let 'em eat sh$%, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can't make it here anymore
And that's how it is
That's what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper
Read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind
If you're listening at all
Get out of that limo
Look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone
Tell us all why
In Dayton, Ohio
Or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That's done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There's rats in the alley
And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can't make it here anymore
This song took me back to my hometown. I grew up in a small factory town. The Smith-Corona typewriter factory was by far the largest building on Main Street. My grandfather and an uncle made their careers there. My mom worked there part-time as a young woman. My neighbor was the plant nurse. When I was in elementary school my grandparents spent a year in Singapore to help open a factory there. A few years later, another factory opened in Mexico. The factory on Main Street closed while I finished high school and sat empty for years until the site pollution could be dealt with. All the kids in town spent the hot humid summer days at the town pool. Many of my friends were life guards as their first jobs.
Thanksgiving is only a few days away. I'm grateful to still have a good job for an organization that strives to make a difference in the world. May I remember that not everyone in our country is so lucky these days to be bringing home a paycheck that covers the bills.
*Music and lyrics © 2004 by James McMurtry
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