Fuel

Blockbuster box office this summer

And the font of Teriyaki, you tell me
And I keep hearing that same damn song
Beneath the sewage system an the path train
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
With no place in two thousand miles to buy beer
How 'bout we put up a wall
And all the magazines agree with all the radios
Except all the radios agree with all the TVs
What he's about or is he just a liar
May their souls rest easy now that lynching is frowned upon

And who's gonna have the big
For another hum drum hit song to appear
'Cause we know difference
And we're spitting on the past
And I can go my way
Even when they're stranded on a small desert island
With nothing to lie about
The event of people playing music in a room
Except go back to that corner in Manhattan
And we can choose between the colors
And stumble around for another dumb numb week
People used to make records as in a record of event
Beneath the cobblestones and the water main
And I wonder who's gonna be president
And a marshmallow in each ear

Beneath everything I can think of to think about
Down beneath the impossible pain of our history
Beneath the bedrock of the mystery
Beneath unknown bones
Of the lipstick on the whores
Or guns or drugs, you choose
There's a fire just waiting for fuel

Even when they're as dry as my lips for years

Beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
Tweedledum or tweedle dumber?
We got it rehashed, we got it half-assed

Between the font of twenty percent more
I'm headed for the same brick wall

There's a fire just waiting for fuel

And they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics

There's a fire just waiting for fuel
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
And dig deeper, dig deeper this time
We're digging up all the graves
Between the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels wheels
Between the houses and the highway
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
Beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel

You tell me what's real
And I wonder is he different is he different, has he changed

Everywhere I go
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
Beneath it all, beneath all get out
It's about sunglasses and shoes

We've moved on to the electric chair
And then you can go your way
How does it make you feel?
There's a fire just waiting for fuel
Now everything is cross-marketing

Is there anything I can do about anything at all
Maybe I should put a bucket over my head