Walking through the city gotta be in the Street
Gotta be on my Feet
Gotta Wash and Repeat

Wax on Wax Off, make shoes the Shoes Comfortable
Walking through the city sometimes its not Lovable

Glass on the ground they wonder where the Luggage Go
Cities Picturesque but don’t be too Gullible

Out in the city these strangers aint Huggable
Garbage on the corner be careful what you Rummage Through

Might get Prick with a Fentanyl Needle
Running naked through the streets impersonating the Beetles

Rich gets richer and the criminal becomes Evil
Trickel down aint working living life is so Feeble

Living life is so Fickle, Really Stuck in a Pickle
Cold as an Icicle, try to relive the Riddle

Whooooa

Crisis Cuban Missle
Nobodies reading magazines but we all have our Issues

Life’s not what it seems, here’s some pills and some tissues
use shiny things to pull the strings behind the scenes of this ruse,
Billboards block the moon with perfume ads selling elegance
Exhume all the skeletons
From the closets, to the hallways, under beds in the tenements
Make some room for the elephant
Hide the homeless from the president
APEC ends and it’s irrelevant
People crumbling between buildings,
Serve as warnings to the residents
Go to work and pay your rent or else you’ll end up without residence
Embedded in this message is a sinister kind of sentiment
That turns sympathetic gestures into dread and then malevolence

Dirty dwellings of the underground, nothing Tender about the Loin
Shots rang out, then all the bodies they start to Swarm

Marin Layer, nothing bout the weather is Warm
Disstopian, the cities really feeling Deformed

Then again the suns coming up in the Morn
Hiking to the Peaks, the views you can never Ignore

On the other hand the wage gap will leave you Scorned
Just another song to keep the individual Informed

Walking down the Street watching when they Bip It
Watching Minute Maids in the Go Karts giving Tickets

In the Middle of the Night hear the Crickets
A cold wind to remind you that its Frigid

Experience growing from a little Tid Bit
Stepping out everyday so I can Live It

Shit stains on the ground really Vivid ness
Add it Up and its really Exquisite

Swing, batter batter, swing, batter batter, swing
Step up to the plate and make a platter for the King
King’s fatter fatter, king’s fatter fatter, king
Steals everything from tattered serfs who bow to kiss his ring
Feudalism still alive and well,
Lords of the land horde all the wealth
Demand our debts be paid or else
We end up in a tent or cell
To pay the rent on stolen land
Like clay that’s made from broken hands
We sell our time, our minds, ourselves
Until we stand up and rebel

Tine, guillo guillo, tine, guillo guillotine!
It’s time to make some cuts and I think I know just the thing