Wednesday, November 5, 2014

A song for the morning after

Standing on a ship that’s going down
Fighting bravely for the right to drown
The house is filling up with fire and smoke
While they throw bottles at the fire truck

(This is why we can’t have nice things!)

They don’t know what they’re talking about
But they know how to jump and shout
Raw meat raining on the angry herd
“Liberty” is now a meaningless word

Chasing demons in their wet fever dreams
The future’s scary and it makes them scream
Sincere citizens with godly goals
Modeling hats and digging six foot holes

(This is why we can’t have nice things!)

Bag of hammers on a bed of nails
Freedom trains are flying off the rails
Jumbo packages of cheap concerns
Country fiddles while the planet burns

(Oh, damn it!)
Don’t you know you’re being played for a fool…
Bag of hammers, raging over nothing…
It really doesn’t have to be this way…
(Ytrap aet a ton si noitulover a.)


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