| To hell with the kind of work you have to do to earn a living
|
| All it does is fill the bellies of the pigs who exploit us
|
| Look at me, I’m makin' it, I may live badly
|
| But at least I don’t have to work to do it
|
| To all you workers out there: every single commodity you produce
|
| Is a piece of your own death!
|
| End of interview!
|
| I’m so goddamn tired, can’t tell if I’m done, or just un-inspired
|
| And don’t give me that you can be somebody speech
|
| That ain’t your place, let me be
|
| I’m an example of a candle lit life
|
| With electric relaxation, brain trampled by devotion
|
| To remote control channel changin'
|
| Something provoked the whole globe to lower expectations
|
| Damn, what’s wrong with my generation?
|
| We was the cream of the crop but it seems we’ve been robbed
|
| That’s what happens when you trade in all your dreams for a job
|
| And every day it gets less and less exciting
|
| I would make a difference but I’m busy faking this instead of trying
|
| Change my shift from now to never and I’ll pretend I’m fine
|
| Why am I always stuck at the shitty end of the assembly line
|
| I guess I’m built to be intoxicated with hope
|
| Sometimes it’s a journey, most of the time it’s just a bad joke
|
| And in my skull there’s a junk drawer I can’t organize
|
| The first to come in last to leave we’ll never be immortalized
|
| This sort of life is completely overrated, I’m sick of being the
|
| Only one I know that’s trying to make it
|
| So right now I’m heading home, got Sounds of Nature Volume 1 in
|
| My headphones and half a bottle of Prednisone
|
| That’s the reaction to an overdose of passion
|
| Brainless, stagnant, ain’t it magic?
|
| I’m here, so what?
|
| (The revolution won’t be 'til tomorrow)
|
| I’m dumb in touch
|
| (Do you have another hour I could borrow?)
|
| I’m sane enough
|
| (The revolution won’t be 'til tomorrow)
|
| Exhausted love
|
| (Do you have another hour I could borrow?)
|
| (Well the thing about tomorrow, I hesitate to say)
|
| I never knew ambition could be so fuckin' disgusting
|
| I earn a good commission but it makes me feel so ugly
|
| I’m on some not even knowing I’m an illuminatus just as long
|
| As playin' agent don’t disrupt my funeral’s progress
|
| I ain’t changin for you I ain’t reaching for the sky, I would
|
| If you could give me one good reason why I should even try
|
| Because after a while this never ending lame game of what’s better
|
| Could fracture your smiles mainframe forever
|
| It’s so fun to be in love, or so I’ve heard
|
| The meaning has no feeling even though I understand the words
|
| I used to try to make heaven right here on earth but that’ll only
|
| Happen if you find someone else to do the work
|
| I’ll be surprised when my psychosis turns out to keep the driving focus
|
| While I hold the same blurred cloud as burnt out dope heads
|
| So for now my worthless counterwork has found a purpose every time a pound of
|
| dirt’s produced I get my frown refurbished
|
| Two for one specials, if you order shoulder devils, head swoll
|
| Running out of petrol but I won’t let go of this gas pedal
|
| 'Til I’m settled and they finally wet me with that sweet blind security
|
| So insecure and messy, mark today the day that dedication died
|
| Instead of saying goodbye, I’m staying praying that’ll I’ll stay alive
|
| Because even though I know I hate to love you so much
|
| I got no better place to go, that’s why I always show up
|
| Damn
|
| I’m here, so what?
|
| (The revolution won’t be 'til tomorrow)
|
| I’m dumb in touch
|
| (Do you have another hour I could borrow?)
|
| I’m sane enough
|
| (The revolution won’t be 'til tomorrow)
|
| Exhausted love
|
| (Abilities, break it down)
|
| — You're getting a divorce
|
| — We're getting separated. |
| We probably won’t get around
|
| To the divorce until next year
|
| — I know it’s none of my business, but why? |
| You’re married to one of the great
|
| women of the world who adores you. |
| My God, if anybody has it made, you have
|
| — She insists she’s in love with me, whatever that is. |
| What she means is she
|
| prefers the senseless pain we inflict on each other to the pain we would
|
| otherwise inflict on ourselves. |
| But I’m not afraid of that solitary pain.
|
| In fact, if I don’t strip myself of all this clatter and clutter and
|
| ridiculous ritual, I shall go out of my fucking mind. |
| Does that answer your
|
| question?
|
| — What question was that?
|
| — You asked me why I was getting divorced
|
| — Oh, listen, it’s your life. |
| I’m sorry I even asked
|
| — Listen |