Dear Canada Customs,
Remember yesterday when you asked me if I was bringing back any tobacco or food products? You do? Well, guess what?
Oh yeah, and I had also visited a farm in the last 14 days.
Sick of Queuing
We must talk in every telephone, get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues from the books we have read
And to the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare.
We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn't dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing.
And it'll go like this
While my mother waters plants my father loads his gun.
He says, "Death will give us back to God,
just like the setting sun
is returned to the lonesome ocean."
And then they splashed into the deep blue sea.
It was a wonderful splash.
We must blend into the choir, sing as static with the whole,
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul,
And to this endless race for property and privilege to be won
We must run, we must run, we must run.
We must hang up in the belfry where the bats in moonlight laugh
We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
And in the caverns of tomorrow with just our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge.
And then we'll get down there,
way down to the very bottom of everything
and then we'll see it, oh we'll see it, we'll see it, we'll see it.
Oh my morning's coming back
The whole world's waking up
Oh the city bus is swimming past.
I'm happy just because
I found out I am really no one.
See you all on the flip side!