An industrial strip in the shadow of downtown
Where tempers flare up when the lights go down
Cooking up a batch in a hotel room

Till one bad fume, the place goes boom
Landlord pigs they won't rent to
working families in Sacramento

Move you off to a drug infested
den of a neighbourhood, there's no justice


To be poor is a crime
Money makes me lose my mind
To be poor is a crime

First world nation in decline
To be poor is a crime
Working class in the breadline

To be poor is a crime

California land of the lost

rich get richer and the poor get tossed
2 million working poor last count
lights out in darkness and in doubt

Six, seven hundred dollar check, big deal
After rent got enough to left for one meal
Every new day I'm so numb I can't feel

Every night I dream of cold hard steel