Fucking with the radio
At the end
He got a night life, lost his day job
At the end
Pushing papers, swinging pendulums
So don't look so worried
But I bet the stars seem so close
With all that trash at his feet
But there's no hell when you die
Drove out through the crowd and the cops
Don't worry
Don't worry
For the way we're feeling
Whatever selves will decide
The flags they wave
You're good as dead without a bank account
All of that filthy empathy
He even got me a subscription
Old folk songs about the government
But it's funny how that life has felt down
At the end
Or to occupy some time
Anything to serve the function
The billboards shade
He said these fuckers push on you
The baseball game was letting out
To the Socialist Review
Drove out past that center mall
You saw the dust and hurt
The anthem's playing loud
Got in his truck and turned around
In that unemployment line
Out past that fenced in gold
And turned the sound
At the end
You gotta earn this living somehow
Don't worry
It's love of money not the market
And all at once
Listening to records in his basement
The pools of piss in the street
And freedom yells, it don't cry
And maybe he lost control
Drove out past that sickening sprawl
hopeb14424 1 recent plays
Liopleurodon 1 recent plays
