With Love From the Unwashed Masses

Since you graciously deign to descend from your tweedy and perilous pedestal
To allow the unwashed masses to drink in your wisdom and condescension
I feel the need to express our gratitude for your platitudes
You drop like rotting rose petals on the ground before you

We slack jawed sheep can't meet your intellectual heights
nor fully grasp how truly miraculous you are
Yet we still manage to keep breathing and enjoy living
Our monster truck loving, beer chugging ways

The unwashed masses salute you
From our simple homes and simpler ways
We feel no shame for our humble tears
Not analyzing their origin, knowing they stem from pain, loss and yearning

We do not filter our feelings through Freud or Faust
But let our beating hearts tell us the story
We will not apologize for the unvarnished joys we take of life
But grasp them and embrace them, knowing they can disappear

So continue to condescend, to mock our tech school ways
The leather patches stitched neatly onto your soul do not signify
We exist and thrive in our world and your sneering smile
Shows only the emptiness of your life

For we live and love and take pleasure where we find it
We sleep in the arms of our man or woman, not wrapped in a doctorate
We feel the pleasures of food, flesh and feeling without a PHD
And if you look closely in our eyes, you will see the pity you arouse in us

Climb back up on your pedestal, draped in aging ivy
This world is for the living and has no room for you