| Pavlov hits me with more bad news
|
| Every time i answer the phone
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| So i play and i sing and i just let it ring
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| All day when i’m at home
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| A defacto choice of macro
|
| Or microcosmic melancholy
|
| But, baby, any way you slice it
|
| I’m thinkin i could just as soon use
|
| The time alone
|
| Yes, the goons have gone global
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| And the CEOs are shredding files
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| And the democrins and the republicrats
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| Are flashing their toothy smiles
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| And uncle tom is posing for a photo op
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| With the oval office clan
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| And uncle sam is rigging cockfights
|
| In the promised land
|
| And that knife you stuck in my back is still there
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| It pinches a little when i sigh and moan
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| And these days i’m thinkin i could just as soon use
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| The time alone
|
| Cuz all the wrong people have the power
|
| Of suggestion
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| And the freedom of the press is meaningless
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| If nobody asks a question
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| I mean, causation by definition
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| Is such a complex compilation of factors
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| That to even try to say why
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| Is to oversimplifly
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| But that’s a far cry, isn’t it dear?
|
| From acting like you’re the only one there
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| Unrepentantly self-centered and unfair
|
| Enter all suckers scrambling for the scoop
|
| Exit mr. |
| eye contact
|
| Who took his flirt and flew the coop
|
| But whatever
|
| No matter
|
| No fishin trips
|
| No fishin
|
| Cuz mamma’s officially out of commission
|
| And did i mention
|
| In there
|
| Somewhere
|
| Did i mention
|
| Somewhere
|
| In there
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| That i traded babe ruth?
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| Yes, i traded the only player that was bigger than the game
|
| And i can’t even tell you why
|
| Cuz you’d think i’m insane
|
| And that’s the truth
|
| And the music industry mafia is pimping girl power
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| Sniping off their sharpshooter singles from their styrofoam towers
|
| And hip hop is tied up in the back room
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| With a logo stuffed in its mouth
|
| Cuz the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house
|
| But then
|
| I’m getting away from myself
|
| As i get closer and closer to home
|
| And these days i’m thinkin
|
| I could just as soon use
|
| The time alone
|
| An i must admit
|
| Today my inner pessimist
|
| Seems to have got the best of me
|
| We start out sugared up on kool-aid and manifest destiny
|
| And we memorize all the president’s names
|
| Like little trained monkeys
|
| And then we’re spit into the world
|
| So many spinny-eyed t.v. |
| junkies
|
| Incapable of unravelling the military industrial mystery
|
| Preemptively pacified with history book history
|
| An i’ve been around the world now
|
| And i can see this about america
|
| The mind control is steep here, man
|
| The myopia is deep here
|
| And behold
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| Those that try to expose the reality
|
| Who really try to realize democracy
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| Are shot with rubber bullets and gassed off the streets
|
| While the global power brokers are kept clean and discreet
|
| Behind a wall
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| Behind a moat
|
| And that is all
|
| That’s all she wrote
|
| An my heart beats an sss o o o sss
|
| Cuz folks just couldn’t care care care less less less
|
| As long as every day is superbowl sunday
|
| And larger than life women in lingerie
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| Are pouting at us from every bus stop
|
| Shelovesme shelovesmenot shelovesme shelovesmenot…
|
| And «big government should not stand between a man and his money»
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| Cuz «what's good for business is good for the country»
|
| Our children still take that lie like communion
|
| The same old line the confederacy used on the union
|
| Conjugate liberty
|
| Into libertarian
|
| And medicate it
|
| Associate it
|
| With deregulation
|
| Privatization
|
| We won’t even know we’re slaves
|
| On a corporate plantation
|
| Somebody say hallelujah!
|
| Somebody say damnation!
|
| Cuz the profit system follows the path of least resistance
|
| And the path of least resistance is what makes the river crooked
|
| Makes it serpentine
|
| Capitalism is the devil’s wet dream
|
| So just give me my judy garland drugs
|
| And let me get back to work
|
| Cuz the empire state building
|
| Is the tallest building in new york
|
| And i always got the feeling
|
| You just liked to hear it fall
|
| Off your tongue
|
| But i remember my name
|
| In your mouth
|
| And i don’t think i was done
|
| Hearing it close to my ear
|
| On a whisper’s way to a moan
|
| But pavlov hits me with more bad news every time i answer the phone
|
| So i play and i sing and i just let it ring all day when i’m at home
|
| A defacto choice of macro
|
| Or microcosmic melancholy
|
| But baby, any way you slice it
|
| I’m thinkin i could just as soon use
|
| The time alone |