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White Picket Fences

There once was a boy who sat in a box for twenty some years ‘til they shipped him off to a brand-new box.
But that’s ok.
‘Cause the love of his life who became his bride would stand by his side till he put her aside. Now she cries over puddles of spilled pride.
But that’s ok.
And they raised a child to think for himself ‘til he questioned God then he needed help so they got that prescription filled.
And now that’s ok.
And every day they wake and they open their eyes then they put on their masks and they go outside
and they hide what’s inside from a world they despise.
But that’s ok.
 

It’s all right; it’s ok, all in all, in disarray. It’s the same thing every day and that’s ok.

It’s all right; it’s ok, all in all, what can you say? Is it ever going to change if it’s ok?
 

So, they live behind a white picket fence where their rules were sent from the government through a pixel box that makes no sense.
But that’s ok.
Daddy slaves away so the bills get paid. Mommy finds new ways to sedate the pain, while little what-his-name plays video games.                                        And that’s ok.
When you’re glued in front of a flat TV where you’ll never question authority, you’ll just be all that you can be.
But that’s ok.
Until you fall in line thinking you don’t care while you run in circles and get nowhere then you’ll wonder how you ended up there.
But that’s ok.
 

It’s all right, it’s ok they look just like you and me flailing in their misery and that’s ok.

It’s all right, it’s ok when it’s all work and no play it makes Jack a real dull boy but that’s ok.
 

Now they’re all caught up in the same routine while they’re chasing down some elusive dream. In the scheme of things it seems obscene.
But that’s ok.
‘Cause the kid’s in school, but he cannot think while his mom’s handcuffed to the kitchen sink and his dad’s in love when he has a drink.
But that’s ok.
And he says "My son if you only knew what that cereal box has in store for you you’d be drinking coffee too.”
And that’s ok.
‘Cause they might be black or they might be white, and they might be left and they might be right. But they all lose sight in the end.
And that’s ok
 

It’s all right, it’s ok in the land of liberty where there’s nothing really free and that’s ok
It’s all right; it’s ok that’s the way it’s gotta’ be when we all end up the same and that’s ok. 
‘Cause we’ve got ourselves to blame
But that’s ok.
Going to find another way.                                                                                                                                                                                                            If that’s ok.