Local Radio
On one enduring July 4th I found myself dependent
Working in service in the capital
I’d heard the burnout rate was off the charts I should have guessed it
I ran into it like a dead end though
I talked some shit about the job and I'm surprised with how it ended
Got interviewed on local radio
And they said: Who bites the hand when the hand feeds you?
They're passing out scraps, you can hardly believe
You'd be picking up tabs for some nouveau riche
Who'd be making in an hour what you make in a week
Trading shifts with the kids just getting started
And the kids spinning their wheels into their 40s, yeah
I wanted more, I wanted more than I was getting
I wanted more from my relationships
I wanted sleep, I wanted peace, I wanted ease, I couldn't get it
I couldn't find a way to pay for it
I dreamed of sleeping aids and counted days as they descended
I'd grit and smile and bear the weight of it
I'd allow myself a modicum of self destruction
A microdosed breakdown, semi-dysfunction
I'd be riding around the city to the sound of combustion
While the Lady of the Harbor was out drinking in public
She'd been pacing back and forth under winds of destruction
Taking swigs from a flask and selling SIM cards or something
While the Independence Day heat was getting me wired
I said: I just wanna see the city on fire
And that patriotic thought tangled up the transmission
An anonymous voice on the affiliate station
Singing: Who bites the hand when the hand feeds you?
They're passing out scraps and you start to believe
Like you're lucky to have all the scraps that you’re eating
While you're climbing your way to the top of the scrap heap
Tell me who bites the hand when the hand feeds you
Who bites the hand? I guess you got to believe
You got to open your eyes to all the ways that they bleed you
While they're buying your life up in cheap little pieces, oh
I wanted more, I wanted more than I was getting
I wanted more, I hit a dead end though
I wanted sleep, I counted sheep, I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t get it
My head was ringing like a telephone
My speech was slurred from shattered nerves and nights up with a headache
They sunk in steady like a status quo
I took the job and what I got was just some paid-off credit
And interviewed on local radio