The value of freedom, for you and for me,
May vary as far as the eye can see,
The freedom to speak, to assemble, to pray,
Are guarded throughout this U.S. of A.
But what of the freedom to compete with your trade,
To market your wares, without a blockade.
Or worse even yet, let’s say for the day,
Big brother comes in and gives it away.
The market is gone, the need erased.
You’re left with a hollow, an empty place.
The reason for this, is simple you see.
It’s political econom-mix, it only takes three.
One is the lady, who pulls on the purse,
To fund number two, who drives freedom’s hearse.
And three is a voter, a you, or a me,
Who grabs at this freebee, and runs off in glee.
What have we got, as we rest for a breath?
It isn’t as free, as we’d grown to expect.
It comes at a price, too high and too dear.
Our free market’s been sold, to a red ink balloteer.
Dr. Mike Hargadon, 1992
