Fuel
Ani diFranco - Little Plastic Castle
they were digging a new foundation in manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetary there
may their souls rest easy
now that lynching is frowned upon
we've moved on to the electric chair
and i wonder who's gonna be president,
tweedle-dum or tweedle-dumber
and who's gonna to have
the big box office block-buster this summer
and how about we put up a wall
between the houses and the highway
and you can go your way
and i can go my way
except all the radios agree with all the tvs
and the magazines agree with all the radios
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go
maybe i should put a bucket over my head
and a marshmallow in each each ear
and stumble around for another dumb numb week
for hum-drum hit song to appear
people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
it's about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs, you choose
we got it rehashed
we got it half-assed
we're digging up all the graves
and we're spitting on the past
and we can choose between the colours
of the lipstick on the whores
because we can tell the difference
between the font of 20% more and the font of teriyaki
you tell me 'how does it make you feel?'
you tell me what's real
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics,
even when they're dry as my lips for years
even when they're stranded on a small desert island
with no place in two thousand miles to buy beer
and i wonder is he different, is he different,
has he changed? what is he about?
or is he a liar with nothing to lie about?
am i headed for the same brick wall?
is there anything i can do about anything at all?
except back to that corner in manhattan
and dig deeper, dig deeper this time
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
beneath the unknown bones
beneath the bedrock and the mystery
beneath the sewage system and the path train
beneath the cobblestones and the water main
beneath the traffic, the friendships and street deals
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
beneath everything i can think of to think about
beneath it all, beneath all get out
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire that's just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
Lyrics
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