Red Shirt

I wrote a song. It's about the jackass who thinks "raped" and "scolded" are synonyms. It's about the drama queen who thinks every little problem is the WORST THING EVER. It's about Privilege-Denying Dude. It's about me when I'm being a whiny jerk. It's about you and your first-world problems.

You should really listen to it.


Lyrics:

I'm shocked to hear that your workplace is run by a man
who hates Jews, queers, and non-whites with all his heart: see,
people that venerate Hitler are not too common nowadays
but I assume that's what you meant by "My boss is a Nazi"
And I feel bad for you, buddy; really I do
But forgive me if I think some people have it worse than you
I'm glad I wore my red shirt to hide my bleeding heart
And I know the world's full of evil folks and I'd never dream of making jokes
about you and your first-world problems.

I can't begin to imagine the horrible ways
that this violent violation must have shaped you:
the trauma, the soul-sickness, and the horror that must result
if, as you say, the telephone company raped you.
And I sympathize, my friend; I mean no rebuke
But forgive me if your metaphor just makes me want to puke
I'm glad I wore my red shirt to hide my bleeding heart
And I know this world is sick with sorrow and I'm praying for a better tomorrow
for you and your first-world problems.

I understand you have to prioritize your cares
You can't fight every battle on your own
And children dying in Africa don't affect your life as much
as breaking your iPhone

It must be really awful to have no money at all
Living on less than a dollar a day's no joke
when you can't afford a meal or a roof over your head
That is what you meant, is it not, by "totally broke"?
And I know it's hard, pal; yeah, your life's a chore
But forgive me if I just don't want to hear it anymore
I'm glad I wore my red shirt to hide my bleeding heart
And I know this world's full of suffering but I've honestly just had enough hearing
about you and your first-world problems
You and your first-world problems.