Ted Leo & The Pharmacists
The Stick
Anxious Mo-Fo, my twin, my friendElection time again, I wish that I was deadSome conversation, if you're well readTo calm the storm of shit that's raging in my headWhile languishing in basements: 10,000,000 corpses lashed to bedsAtrophied to archetypes by all the able artists overheadMixed light of evening, sky of the seaYou take the Old North Road 'cause that's where you feel freeYour hidden backroads, your hidden dreamsA hidden cigarette that actually helps you breathePlay an ancient mixtape, attempt a break from the routineBut dark on the horizon: form that's never fully come to beingStill need a reason for your unease - You think the government, it wants you on your kneesBut I'll tell you something, and here it is:They want you driving to the supermarket, buying milk and cheeseAnd generating taxes to fuel their corn subsidiesYou're either nibbling at the carrot, or you get beat with the fasces
From Letras Mania