| They were digging a new foundation in Manhattan
|
| And they discovered a slave cemetery there
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| May their souls rest easy
|
| Now that lynching is frowned upon
|
| And we’ve moved on to the electric chair
|
| And I wonder who’s gonna be president
|
| Tweedle dumb or tweedle dumber?
|
| And who’s gonna have the big
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| Blockbuster box office this summer?
|
| How about we put up a wall between houses and the highway?
|
| And you can go your way, and i can go my way
|
| Except all the radios agree with all the TVs
|
| And the magazines agree with all the radios
|
| And I keep hearing that same damn song everywhere I go
|
| Maybe I should put a bucket over my head
|
| And a marshmallow in each ear
|
| And stumble around for another dumb-numb week
|
| For another hum drum hit song to appear
|
| People used to make records
|
| As in a record of an event
|
| The event of people playing music in a room
|
| Now everything is cross-marketing
|
| It’s about sunglasses and shoes
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| Or guns and drugs
|
| You choose
|
| We got it rehashed
|
| We got it half-assed
|
| We’re digging up all the graves
|
| And we’re spitting on the past
|
| And you can choose between the colors
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| Of the lipstick on the whores
|
| Cause we know the difference between
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| The font of 20% more
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| And the font of teriyaki
|
| You tell me
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| How does it make you feel?
|
| You tell me what’s real?
|
| And they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
|
| Even when they’re as dry as my lips for years
|
| Even when they’re stranded on a small desert island
|
| With no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
|
| And I wonder
|
| Is he different?
|
| Is he different?
|
| Has he changed? |
| What’s he about…
|
| Or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about?
|
| Am I headed for the same brick wall
|
| Is there anything I can do about anything at all?
|
| Except go back to that corner in Manhattan
|
| And dig deeper, dig deeper this time
|
| Down beneath the impossible pain of our history
|
| Beneath unknown bones
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| Beneath the bedrock of the mystery
|
| Beneath the sewage systems and the path train
|
| Beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
|
| Beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
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| Beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
|
| Beneath everything I can think of to think about
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| Beneath it all, beneath all get out
|
| Beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
|
| There’s a fire just waiting for fuel
|
| There’s a fire just waiting for fuel |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fuel, artist - Ani DiFranco. Album song Canon, in the genre Иностранная авторская песня