
Date of issue: 22.06.1998
Record label: Hopeless
Song language: English
Super Powers Enable Me to Blend In With Machinery |
It’s all wrinkled elbow shirts and poker faces on this bus |
Back to a niche dug just like a ditch in this city’s weathered crust |
But there’s something about this city’s gray |
That seems to say all there is to say |
Riddled with regiment, vindictive intent |
Faking loyalty and getting paid |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
She keeps the variety section and then gives the rest to me |
She says she remembers when buses were nicer |
«There's no dignity in plastic seats» |
But there’s something about the way she said |
«The only good boss is one that’s dead» |
These broad shoulders giggled all over the bus |
And work ethics crumbled into «them and us» |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
Fuck them all |
And all these specters of the workplace |
Turned from effigy into reality |
And yeah I wish it was that simple |
To think a belly laugh is really all we need |
But it’s the slow decay of the day to day |
That says take your paycheck, accept your place and fade away |
But there was dignity in plastic seats that day |