From the album Obsolete Commodities
Commuters making music on
Computers made for phone conversations.
The end’s begun
To look like hope for something terrible
As the masses swarm like flies to shit for junk.
Progress doesn’t exist when you
Disregard the future for a buck.
The whole world’s fucked
By the corporate interests which keep the
Whole world spinning sideways, off its axis.
And when the Amazon’s just warehouses of
Obsolete commodities then
Maybe we’ll stand up and fight for change.
Or just lie down and let those fuckers thrust away.
I still recall the first time that I
Realized that I was just a pawn.
Now I work to pay for cars and clothes I
Drive and wear to work. Something’s wrong.
And when Mt. Everest’s a small island
Devoid of population, and the
Factories lie still beneath the sea.
We’ll be colonizing a planet most
Similar to our homeland, after
Killing all and taking what we need.
And when their forests are warehouses of
Obsolete commodities, then
We’ll realize it’s never gonna change.
And you and I, we’re fuckers just the same.