When you notice that the folks on top are grabbing all the breaks,

While the rest of us are twitching with the economic shakes,

If you even raise the prospect of correcting those mistakes:

That’s class warfare.

When you look around and figure that the country’s up for sal

e,

And you fret that K Street cronies have their thumbs on ev’ry scale,

While the worst of Wall Street’s schemers never spend an hour in jail:

That’s class warfare.

When the riches “trickling down” don’t seem to make it to the poor,

And you see the hardship all around, but never see a cure,

If you note the gentle fragrance of a hill of horse manure:

That’s class warfare.

When you worry that the game is rigged for just a chosen few,

And the winner’s circle never has a spot for folks like you,

If you wonder, “Is there nothing that our government can do?”

That’s class warfare.

When you listen to the talking heads and fight the urge to scream,

When “We’re all in this together” sounds eccentric, and extreme,

When you mourn the tens of millions who’ve forgotten how to dream:

That’s class warfare.

So you really ought to bite your tongue and keep those words unsaid,

And you really need to sweep that nasty language from your head,

‘Cause there’s just one game the victors play — and just one phrase they dread:

Class warfare.

Rick Horowitz is a nationally syndicated columnist. His email address is rickhoro@execpc.com.