Post-Modern Blues
My gas tank’s dead on empty,
fridge is gettin’ bare.
But my local senator
tells me that he cares.
The cats that hold my pink slip
said they’d lend a hand.
But I look outside my window,
and there’s the repo man.
The banksters want our houses,
the feds just wink an eye.
The Devil does his dirty work
in a suit and tie.
(chorus)
But then I…
Take a little pill and it all gets better.
Pick up the remote, and it goes away.
Have another toke, get lost in that big screen.
Hangin’ with the stars, and it’s all okay.
Put ev’rything on hold, ’cause right now it’s prime time.
Had a busy day survivin’ that grind.
Pour a double shot, get sucked through the cable.
Livin’ in a fluoride stoned state of mind.
They’re hackin’ our computers,
tappin’ all our calls.
Cam’ras mounted everywhere,
starin’ through the walls.
