Social Insecurity

There are so many folks out there
Whose hands are in my pocket
That if I earned a decent check
Someone, I'm sure would dock it

And when I get my credit cards
Paid down below their max
Uncle Sam will come along
And raise my income tax

Money's not the type of thing
You take unto your grave
I'd like to get it to the bank
To see if I could save

And when I reach my golden years
I'd like for there to be
Something there to help me bear
My Social Insecurity

I scrimp and save to put some in
My little IRA
And then the market crashes and
They take it all away

While someone with insider friends
Takes it to his bank
And chuckles at the fools like me
Who just filled up his tank

Money's not the type of thing
You take unto your grave
I'd like to get it to the bank
To see if I could save

And when I reach my golden years
I'd like for there to be
Something there to help me bear
My Social Insecurity
 
That little check, I swear to God's
Our only safety net
They raided all the S&Ls,
The banks and markets yet

They want to get the only thing
That keeps us from privation
So they can line their pockets
And we can face starvation!

Money's not the type of thing
You take unto your grave
I'd like to get it to the bank
To see if I could save

And when I reach my golden years
I'd like for there to be
Something there to help me bear
My Social Insecurity