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wynton marsalis - mr. game: your last prize (the best one) lyrics

… well, that was that

o, glorious people!

this is your last prize and it’s the best one

now we’re really about to have some fun

when you act against your best interest to attack a remote enemy with no power to do you any harm; when you’re ecstatic about identifying yourself as a winner even though you never get a single spoil; when you are happy to accept far less than your partic+p+tion could have earned and honored to be rewarded for the achievement of staying home, congratulations! you’ve won one game of the ever fonky lowdown….and you’re the donkey

o, glorious people, my people, our people, the people, hear me, this game was never about “them.” it’s been about you….and all of what has been sold to you. i’m talking about the machine, the system, the grind, the chart from birth to the grave. it’s all figured out for you. one hustle after another designed to +n+lyze, paralyze, bind and blind you. o, can’t you see? corrupt laws, endless litigation over trivia, ridiculous rules, bureaucratic incompetence; pay to live, pay to die, pay to get married, pay to divorce, pay for school, pay for the hospital, pay pay pay, ha ha! indifferent government wasting and stealing piles of your money that you can’t even and don’t even want to trace, endorsing tribal policies that violate your self+interest as you all swallow the fake binary narrative of democrat vs republican, white vs black, man versus woman, haha. fools!! games, games, games!

here’s some history:
did you know that over 700,000 people died in the american civil war… “us and them”?

here’s the breakdown:
leave everything up to us and we’ll make sure you never have to do anything except pay. and while you hate each other and fight against a never+ending “them”, we will remain us. who is us? haha, we are you when you get the opportunity to be

here’s the hand me down:
the savior and all of these freedom fighters continue to get it wrong. you don’t actually want to grapple with more than two choices. you don’t want to sacrifice anything meaningful for your fellow citizens. you want to live in a fantasy world in which you may perhaps see others suffer, but from far enough away to change the page at a cl!ck. be honest with yourself, you don’t actually want real freedom because, if it’s turned loose, it might just go anywhere. why should your freedom be given to anyone? you fought for it. and we beat people, we are winners. why should a winner give anything to a loser? they lost
that’s why you repeatedly choose those who will jam the human soul into the cold, cold ground, drag it around like a jagged plough, pull it up and thrust it even further down, and up and down again deeper if it make a single solitary sound

yeah… you really just want to be entertained by games, games!! this is a game, gotdammit!! the game of games. you think paying for a football stadium cost you? winning the ever fonky lowdown cost you your humanity, but every day, millions are dying just to get a place in line to pay the price of admission

this is an international hustle, baby. it has played out many times across time and sp+ce and is not specific to any language or race. it takes on different flavors according to people’s taste, but always ends up in the same old place

i’m your host, by the name of game, mister game, a player, a soothsayer and a dragon slayer, i’m a night trader and a soul raider. i steps with lightning, walks with thunder, climbs the wall, puts the dead on the wonder, following me was your biggest blunder. i don’t recognize any “us” or “them”, him, her or you. when you see me coming, all i know is what i’m gonna do. i’m gon’ get paid, and somebody’s gonna get played. that’s just how my money is made!!

here’s the lowdown:
wasting time is the greatest drug in the world. your last prize is freedom from thought and constructive engagement. you don’t ever have to do a single d+mned thing about anything going on out here that does not directly benefit you! survival of the fittest…that’s as fonky as it gets, baby

- wynton marsalis lyrics

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