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hey man, the universe didn't start with zero'cause they didn't know where to put it so they had to invent negative numberstime is a number line with jesus at the zero and two arrows with infinite ticks pointing left and righti keep finding myself in the same back left seat in someone elses car on another road trip to chicago, new york, or in an airplane watching thunderstorms over detroitand the east-bound short-night accelerated sunrise, is it quicker to travel west since the way the world rotates?will california meet you halfway?i'm sick of cigarette smoke in my hair, and the grease combed wig i wear at showsi have no patience for sales tax and shitty neon signsdeath is an arrow and the tick marks are parking metersdon't feed your kids dead flesh from the flooryour president is a hologramwith his manicured fingernails and a fresh haircutdanny glover is a hologramwith his barrel chest and beardbritney spears is a hologramwith a boob-job and lipstickpeople that believe in hologramseat gorton's fish sticksit's true, virginia slims pays bea arthur thirty thousand dollars a year to smoke a pack a daytarget says "here we grow again" as a positive statementall these billboards directed at soccer moms in maroon wagons on four-lane highways outside of chicago, detroit, minneapolis, who's allowing blockbuster to tear down housing projects to have three stores in two blocks?why does the winning world assume we're all self centered?there is no room for rococo decadence in this new worldSongtexteawaiting the nuke-bomb mad max makeoverthe half-mast flag at the park shows proof of mourning on a dry blue sky memorial day monday, seventy five, sunny..died, pulling a fifty foot flag, bit by bit from his fistlike a cheap magic trickwhile standing in a bed of black-eyed-susans and wearing a store-bought blindfoldhe'd be the first to tell you that if you get hit by a car hardor stand too close to where a bomb drops in a city park bed of black-eyed-susans, it might just literally knock your socks offand he'd hope that the flag's half-mastedness wouldn't spoil your beautiful septemberafternoon cut grass sidewalk lifenot even a bitdon't swallow the knifeno need to say shitkeep flying that kite Aus Songtexte Mania