You don’t know what you got…you should already know the rest. Joni Mitchell never lied. She said, “You don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone.” Passing on too many times we’ll never have again. Wondering where you’ve been, not knowing it’s all over. Now that shit ain’t for the kids, it’s for the old dead white men with green faces. Clothes keep changing sizes, but you won’t grow. Celebrating eras full of what you don’t know. Fall. If it wasn’t for bad luck, you spoiled little fucks would have no excuses at all. Tell mommy and daddy shut the fuck up. Keep quiet, keep buying weak tries because they couldn’t teach you what to do with the ball. If it wasn’t for bad luck, you spoiled little fucks would have no excuses at all. They drink with the coach. A pretense approach puts a bunch of fans and complainers in the game they should only watch from their smart TVs. Your grandad donned white hoods and got away with atrocious crimes, now you want to con like crooks and model in the clothes from mine. The ignorance of the privileged. The unsung failures. Affluenza is a powerful plague. Fall, fall hard. Take it all, use it all like your right. Like your history made you to be. You could lie, you could steal, you could kill and prosper from what you’ve taken from me. I see you. I study you. I am here to cut your achilles and laugh as you trip and fall.