Whisky

Sweepin' the floor daily,
watchin' my masters drink.
The bottle's emptyin' itself,
need a new one, quick!

'Else I'll be whipped,
across the back, and will you care?
Where are the rights the government
promised me? where are they?

I suppose they're like the whisky:
temptin' at first, but do not last
& they give a false sense of
hope and security.