...crushing sense of post-industrial poverty... commercial disenchantment... night of the living Dead Flag Blues...
When we found out that the car on fire was just another product
And the driver, asleep at the wheel,
Was on AmbienTM it hurt like hell...
But we opened our wallets up
And they were full of money!
Now we're too worn out
To sing the Dead Flag Blues
With every marching step
Another build-up
Leading us to nowhere.
...dreams blow out over the canyons at Rio Marañón... captive and blindfolded peaceful sleep...
...The Palliative Effects of Foreign Cinema on Late Stage Capitalist Collapse.
Now you know what it's like
So get up off your bed
Turn the record off
Pretend that you're dead
And turn the TV on.
You're nothing but a foreign film.
A distraction from reactions
I can't hear you, I can't feel you
But I can see you, I can see you
I can see you
Like a dollar sign
Neon light on highway drive
It's a needle, a cathedral
With a steeple
But no people
I can see you.
I can see you
I can see you.
I can see you looking back.
I haven't even got a mind that's that inhumane
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