“No, everything’s not okay. Because somebody hasn’t had their due. If I went and harmed somebody, physically or mentally, I would get arrested. Somebody would call the cops, if I beat you or drove you nuts or something. These people can do this and get away with it. They can ruin people’s lives that have been good employees. That isn’t the American way.”
Glen Bodin
Altar of the Bottom Line
Tom Juravich
I grew up at a time when a man could make his own fate
By the sweat of his brow, by the work he’d do, by what his hands could make
Now my life it hangs in the balance, of deals brokered, made and signed
Far from this town my fate is sealed, at the altar of the bottom line
I should have seen it coming, but how was I supposed to know?
Record production coming out of the plant, past three years in a row
They bought that place in New Hampshire, it wasn’t much of a find
But what are we workers supposed to know, about the altar of the bottom line?
Though their debt kept on rising, still they were not afraid
They built a series of overseas plants, using the machines we made
But as greed it clouded all reason, start-up fell way behind time
Next quarter they’d have to ante up, at the altar of the bottom line
They fell into Chapter 11, there was not much more they could do
A couple of top brass they lost their jobs, but we all lost ours too
Though we always made money, there was no way to buy time
They shut us down to raise the cash, for the altar of the bottom line
No it’s not finished, no it’s not through
How much more will we let them ruin? What will it all come to?
Though time it now passes, no, everything isn’t fine
How many more will be sacrificed, at the altar of the bottom line?
I grew up at a time when, a man could make his own fate
©2007, BMI