Voodoo Economics - What If Those Heavy Things Cracked Their Little Brittle Bones To The Marrow? текст песни

Should've been a scientist,
a paragon of usefulness.
instead I am a masochist.
I masquerade as an artist.

You say you are an anarchist,
but baby, you're so talented.
philosophy's the great escape,
but you could help us get to space;
leave this place a home to the animals plants and
stones. we've made our bed �
now we're gone.
goodbye, mom.

Inexplicably, on the new planet, janet became
the world's most popular name.
they couldn't stop thinking about her.

Predictably, on the new planet, people hadn't
changed �
the world's most popular game
was tag with the invisible man.

Ostensibly, everyone there had read heavy things.
none had slipped through the cracks.
but what if those heavy things had broken them'
cracked their
little brittle
little brittle
little brittle bones to the marrow'

What's the closest place to go
we gotta pack a lotta clothes,
toys, and food for the road.
we're gonna have a heavy load of co2, h2o,
I think we can make do
without calcium and nitrogen,
except what we carry...
except what we bury in our own skin.

You used to live under the ground.
you only emerged for groceries, necessities,
narcotics, and christmas trees.

Since you came up for air,
I pretend that my antibiotics are the most potent
antipsychotics currently available at your
local supermarket.

It's a rare herb that simply tells your brain when
you're full.
it's an idea that rushes up on you when you're
crawling for comfort,
bail out pails of water.
turns out, hope takes diet pills.
don't be so sad about it.

Where's the young man who's banging on decked-out
machines
who's on parade in the vaguest of dreams
it's a rare herb that simply tells your brain when
you're full.
it's a long time from when you were here until you
are mulling about,
with a chain for a spout
and your brain is worn out
and you're too scared to spit it out.

There's a lot of detail that will happen around here
before we're through.
and all of this time, the red phone keeps ringing for you.
the instant of hello,
your knees will turn nailed to yourself,
and you'll know
you have no business picking up phones
that are ringing off hooks
and you're munching on rare herbs and reading big
books that are fit only for certain purposes,
as in they make perfect doorstops,
and you'll never know what they say,
and I've got no suggestions
how patterns are broken.
Maybe they're perfect and maybe they shouldn't be