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There are blue collar workers | And yellow collar workers
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For our white has become faded | In a bureaucratic mess
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And I say there are green collar workers | A meshing of two worlds | Of two primary colors
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We are not yellow and faded and corrupt | We are not blue and poor and simple
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We are Dreamers and Dancers | Musicians and Visionaries | Lovers and Animals
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Our own fantastic society of dementia | And influence
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This is our work
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We influence the yellows | For they don't understand our ideology | And realism
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We influence the blues | For they can't comprehend our symbolism | And philosophy
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But we are still envious | Green with it
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We test everything without the control of reality | We are cynical and stubborn
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And we will always be destroyed
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So that the yellows may grow more yellow | And like it
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And the blues may drink in unquestioned ignorance | And like it
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But our collars will stay the greenest of greens | A clover among dandelions and violets
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Though the mud splatters upon us in our graves
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