The Wheel Still in Spin

Out of the office at five, war-paint on,
Home to cut the lawn, then pay the taxes,
gone is ownership and need for axes,
Then let the men know, unite at dawn.
New Avenue rapidly waiting upon,
a land pillage of shavings and waxes,
You toil for the one who relaxes,
you suffer like Brasi for Vito, Don.
Good thing you cough, god forbid you would choke,
Now look out for your son and your daughter,
Could you please get the distance more nearer.
Bring back my Canada of mighty oak,
Instead of a reflection in water
we just look to the grain in the mirror.