I was walkin' down the street
When out the corner of my eye
I saw a pretty little thing approaching me
She said, "I never seen a man
Who looked so all alone
Oh could you use a little company?
And if you pay the right price
Your evening will be nice
And you can go and send me on my way."
I said, "You're such a sweet young thing
Why you do this to yourself?"
She looked at me and this is what she said:
Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
I got bills to pay
I got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No I can't slow down
I can't hold back
Though you know I wish I could
No there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good
Not even 15 minutes later
I'm still walkin' down the street
When I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight
And then he swept up from behind
He put a gun up to my head
He made it clear he wasn't lookin' for a fight
He said, "Give me all you got.
I want your money not your life,
But if you try to make a move I won't think twice."
I told him, "You can have my cash,
But first you know I gotta ask
What made you wanna live this kind of life?"
He said
Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
I got bills to pay
I got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No I can't slow down
I can't hold back
Though you know I wish I could
No there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good
Well now a couple hours passed
And I was sitting in my house
The day was winding down and coming to an end
So I turned to the TV
And flipped it over to the news
And what I saw I almost couldn't comprehend
I saw a preacher man in cuffs
He'd taken money from the church
He'd stuff his bank account with righteous dollar bills
But even still I can't say much
Because I know we're all the same
Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills
You know there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
We got bills to pay
We got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No we can't slow down
We can't hold back
Though you know we wish we could
No there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good
The Internet has made it possible for anyone, no matter how marginal, to "prove" that their ideas are "right" because they can find like-minded people spewing the same nonsense.
Content—whether thought-provoking, regurgitated, or analytically superficial, impeccably-researched, politically doctrinaire, or grammatically atrocious—now occupies the same cultural space, the same screen space, and the same mental space in the public imagination. After awhile, we just stop keeping track of what's legitimately good because it takes too much energy to separate the crème from the foam.