| Song | Trickle Down System |
| Artist | Giant Sand |
| Album | Swerve |
| 作词 : Gelb | |
| Grandpa's house lay a bit embattered. | |
| The family split up since his burial. | |
| Bitter fights over the family business. | |
| I tell ya, if he were here today.... | |
| He'd say life compared to death | |
| Is so surreal. | |
| My dreamhouse burns to ashes | |
| Everynight before the dawn. sA | |
| I rummage through and find a familiar | |
| Bone to carry on. All those | |
| Memories I thought were long gone. | |
| I got to let them alone. Let them | |
| Alone | |
| Chorus: And all that you have. | |
| Is easily taken. | |
| All that you give. | |
| Usually mistaken. | |
| Take off your dresses | |
| Lay naked on the bed... | |
| The Trickle Down System | |
| Comes a pouring into | |
| Your head. | |
| When we were younger, we were more | |
| Like purveyors: Purverse, Purposeful. | |
| And full of neglect. These days we | |
| Have been reduced to Surveyors: | |
| More Severe, More Soulful, and | |
| Actually capable of some respect. | |
| Chorus: Take off your uniform. | |
| Passed the point of no return. | |
| Ashes to ashes. return to cinder. | |
| Maybe I'm a ponderer.... Sweet drunk | |
| On a pond of her tears. | |
| Chorus: Take off everything. |
| zuò cí : Gelb | |
| Grandpa' s house lay a bit embattered. | |
| The family split up since his burial. | |
| Bitter fights over the family business. | |
| I tell ya, if he were here today.... | |
| He' d say life compared to death | |
| Is so surreal. | |
| My dreamhouse burns to ashes | |
| Everynight before the dawn. sA | |
| I rummage through and find a familiar | |
| Bone to carry on. All those | |
| Memories I thought were long gone. | |
| I got to let them alone. Let them | |
| Alone | |
| Chorus: And all that you have. | |
| Is easily taken. | |
| All that you give. | |
| Usually mistaken. | |
| Take off your dresses | |
| Lay naked on the bed... | |
| The Trickle Down System | |
| Comes a pouring into | |
| Your head. | |
| When we were younger, we were more | |
| Like purveyors: Purverse, Purposeful. | |
| And full of neglect. These days we | |
| Have been reduced to Surveyors: | |
| More Severe, More Soulful, and | |
| Actually capable of some respect. | |
| Chorus: Take off your uniform. | |
| Passed the point of no return. | |
| Ashes to ashes. return to cinder. | |
| Maybe I' m a ponderer.... Sweet drunk | |
| On a pond of her tears. | |
| Chorus: Take off everything. |