| [00:03.596] |
John A. Hobson was a good man |
| [00:07.096] |
He used to loan me books and mic stands |
| [00:10.349] |
He even got me a subscription |
| [00:13.353] |
To the Socialist Review |
| [00:17.347] |
Listening to records in his basement |
| [00:20.588] |
Old folk songs about the government |
| [00:24.097] |
"It's love of money, not the market" |
| [00:26.847] |
He said, "these ****ers push on you" |
| [00:30.095] |
"And freedom yells, it don't cry |
| [00:33.102] |
Whatever sells will decide |
| [00:36.592] |
But there's no hell when you die |
| [00:39.847] |
So don't look so worried" |
| [00:45.096] |
He got a night life, lost his day job |
| [00:48.091] |
Pushing papers, swinging pendulums |
| [00:51.586] |
Anything to serve a function |
| [00:54.600] |
Or to occupy some time |
| [00:58.591] |
You gotta earn this living somehow |
| [01:01.837] |
You're good as dead without a bank account |
| [01:05.356] |
But it's funny how alive he felt down |
| [01:08.096] |
In that unemployment line |
| [01:11.100] |
With all that trash at his feet |
| [01:14.344] |
The pools of piss in the street |
| [01:17.853] |
All of that filthy empathy |
| [01:20.845] |
For the way we're feeling |
| [01:22.095] |
|
| [01:53.595] |
The billboards shade |
| [01:55.346] |
The flags they wave |
| [01:57.090] |
The anthem was playing loud |
| [02:00.340] |
The baseball game was letting out |
| [02:07.346] |
And all at once |
| [02:08.840] |
He saw the dust |
| [02:10.590] |
And heard every tiny sound |
| [02:13.842] |
Got in his truck and turned around |
| [02:19.592] |
Drove out through the crowd and the cops |
| [02:22.837] |
Drove out past that center mall |
| [02:26.343] |
Drove out past that sickening sprawl |
| [02:29.840] |
Out past that fenced in gold |
| [02:33.092] |
And maybe he lost control |
| [02:36.591] |
****ing with the radio |
| [02:40.093] |
But I bet the stars seemed so close |
| [02:43.845] |
At the end |
| [02:47.342] |
At the end |
| [02:50.589] |
At the end |
