Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Garbage, artist - Big Bird
Date of issue: 31.12.1973
Song language: English
Garbage |
Mister Thompson calls the waiter, orders steak and baked potato |
(Then) he leaves the bone and gristle and he never eats the skin |
The busboy comes and takes it, with a cough contaminates it |
(And he) puts it in a can with coffee grounds and sardine tins |
And the truck comes by on Friday and carts it all away |
A thousand trucks just like it are converging on the Bay |
Oh, Garbage, garbage, garbage, garbage |
We’re filling up the seas with garbage |
What will we do when there’s no place left |
To put all the garbage |
Mr. Thompson starts his Cadillac and winds it down the freeway track |
Leaving friends and neighbors in a hydrocarbon haze |
He’s joined by lots of smaller cars all sending gases to the stars |
There to form a seething cloud that hangs for thirty days |
And the sun licks down into it with an ultraviolet tongue |
(Till it) turns to smog and then it settles in our lungs |
Oh, Garbage, garbage |
We’re filling up the sky with garbage |
Garbage, garbage |
What will we do, when there’s nothing left to breathe but garbage |
Getting home and taking off his shoes he settles with the evening news |
While the kids do homework with the TV in one ear |
While Superman for thousandth’s time sell talking dolls and conquers crime |
(They) dutifully learn the date of birth of Paul Revere |
In the paper there’s a piece about the mayor’s middle name |
(And) he gets it done in time to watch the all-star bingo game |
Oh, Garbage |
We’re filling up our minds with garbage |
What will we do when there’s nothing left to read |
And there’s nothing left to need |
There’s nothing left to watch |
There’s nothing left to touch |
There’s nothing left to walk upon |
And nothing left to ponder on |
Nothing left to see |
And nothing left to be but garbage |
In Mr. Thompson’s factory they’re making plastic Christmas trees |
Complete with silver tinsel and a geodesic stand |
The plastic’s mixed in giant vats, from some conglomeration that’s |
Been piped from deep within the Earth, or strip-mined from the land |
And if you ask them questions they say «why don’t you see? |
It’s absolutely needed for the economy.» |
Oh, garbage, garbage, garbage |
Their stocks and their bonds all garbage |
What will they do when their system go to smash |
There’s no value to their cash |
There’s no money to be made |
That there’s a world to be repaid |
Their kids will read in history book |
About financiers and other crooks |
And feudalism and slavery |
And nukes and all their knavery |
To history’s dustbin they’re consigned |
Along with many other kinds of garbage |