Pay first. Eat later.

In a galaxy far, far away
Or a different corner of the Milky Way
Sits a food joint on some lonely planet
Where you pay up first for your meal, only then have it.
Not very queer, not unheard of. In fact, most common
But what if you didn't choose the meal, and the waiter brought his favourite ramen.
A block away, you tread along, to find a clothing store
But your clothes you take only after, your wallet they take before.
And in this town, the infants start at a prison facility
For crimes they've not committed yet, but crimes their lives will be.
All this might sound to you, rather very strange
But think for once what you give your children apart from a funny name
You choose for them so much, so much they do not know
And hold them up for ransom when your beard's white as snow
Parenthood seems to be passing on a debt they never chose to take
You hand them a bill for a mess they did not even make
You pick their schools, you buy them things, and condition them too
And then they grow up to owe a debt when they'd rather reset, start anew.