Enough is Never Enough

It was a Tuesday
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into a café he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters
Fresh from the microwave
A sandwich is thrown
On a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his toes
Into the world of a well-known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie Won't cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And 'blessed are the meek'
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on a plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers don't make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing