| Your great-grandfather was a great lawyer
|
| And his kid made a mint off the war
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| Your father shot stills and then directed films
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| That your mom did publicity for
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| I saw your older sis on the year’s best book list
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| And your brother, he manages bands
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| And you’re keen to downplay, but you’re quick to betray
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| With one well turned out wave of your hand
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| You come from wealth
|
| Yeah, you’ve got wealth
|
| What a bitch they didn’t give you much else
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| I heard cuts by The Kinks on your speakers
|
| I saw Poe and Artau on your shelves
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| While The Last Laugh’s first scene on your flat panel screen
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| Lit Chanel that you’ve wrapped around yourself
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| You’ve got outsider art by an artist
|
| Who arguably kidnapped a kid on the wall
|
| While your designers have slyly directed the eye
|
| Down clean lines in your well-lit hall
|
| You’ve got taste
|
| You’ve got taste
|
| What a waste that that’s all that you have
|
| Oh, you wrote your thesis on the Gospel of Thomas
|
| You shot some reversal film in Angkor Wat
|
| And this book you once read say there’s less people dead
|
| At this point now than those who are not
|
| And this film we once saw was reviled for its flaws
|
| But its flaws were what made us have fun
|
| And the life some folks had might have made us feel bad
|
| Why feel bad man, it’s nothing that you’ve done
|
| It’s all in your hand
|
| It’s all in your hand
|
| Like a gun, like a globe, like a grand
|
| And this thing you once said disappeared from my head
|
| In the time that it took to be amazed
|
| And this thing you once did might have dazzled the kids
|
| But the kids once grown up are gonna walk away
|
| And your world is gonna change nothing
|
| And your world is gonna change nothing
|
| And our world is gonna change nothing
|
| And our world is gonna change nothing
|
| And our world is gonna change nothing |