Tony worked, the factory floor; it was fifteen years last week
They cut his job on Friday, now he barely makes ends meet.
Now Tony is a sick, sick, man, without a health care plan,
He prays his kids stay healthy, but the stress is killing him.

Little Sammie… what’s his name… in the house across the street,
Has some kind of cancer, and he’s looking pretty weak.
His mommy has insurance, and pays a high, high, price.
But the coverage is limited; they told her so last night.


They say you rate a nation, by the way it treats it folks
Lately, it’s looking pretty sad.
When men, the likes of Tony, and kids like little Sam,
Are destined for an early grave, across this wealthy land.


So, Sammie went to heaven, and the wealthy doctor sighed,
Little Sammie’s mother stood at the door and cried.
The Senators said what a shame, something should be done
Then they took a nice long recess, and made themselves some fun.

Is there any reason to deny these folks the need
To not fear losing homes, and health
All because of greed.

They say they rate a nation, by the way it treats it folks
And sometimes you just have to wonder why
Would a nation, ever be so great
To stand with empty eyes, with obstruction in their hearts, and minds
To let its people die.

So, this is Think, MtV. Wow, who's thinking around here.