no matter how many times we paint over these walls the writing still shines through in the stream of commerce we're afloat a thousand washed-up rockers trash the banks. oh no. in the stream of commerce we're afloat and unafraid to sail a sinking boat honestly my hand is on the plug this time it says here right on my dotted line haste creates waste keep your eyes on the road you might be able to drive but you're so lucky to be alive in the stream of commerce we're afloat miles of red tape have choked us dead now it's building like a nasty mold and everybody can't help but catch the cold aah aahh aaahh all the writing on the wall shines through... all the while we knew. |