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In a forest of stone Underneath the corporate canopy Where the sun rarely filters down The ground is not so soft Not so soft They build buildings to house people Making money Or they build buildings to make money Off of housing people It's true Like a lot of things are true I am foraging for a phone booth on the forest floor That is not so soft I look up It looks like the buildings are burning But it's just the sun setting The solar system calling an end to another business day Eternally circling signally The rythmic clicking on and off of computers The pulse of the American machine The pulse that draws death dancing Out of anonymous side streets You know The ones that always get dumped on and never get plowed It draws death dancing Letras de cancionesOut of little countries With funny languages Where the ground is getting harder And it was not that soft before Those who call the shots are never in the line of fire Why Where there's life for hire out there If a flag of truth were raised We could watch every liar rise to wave it Here we learn America like a script Playwright Birthright Same thing We bring ourselves to the role We're all rehearsing for the presidency I always wanted to be commander in chief of my one woman army But I can envision the mediocrity of my finest hour It's the failed America in me It's the fear that lives in a forest of stone Underneath the corporate canopy Where the sun rarely filters down And the ground is not so soft From Letras Mania