I tasted the money in my mouth A bitter transaction A disgusting sensation All problems can be solved with cash What is your price? What a sordid question I tasted the money in my mouth The sour taste of consumerism
Say "the man" has placed you in a box - the nine to five barebones hustle; this is called your job. Tax and rent are due, so you'd better bustle; the days melt together, into a formless blob. Most do what they do just to stay alive. Once the walls finally fall, we shall thrive. So what say you, on matters of the heart? From that soul ******* vacuum, with what baggage would you part? Preferably the trauma, we all assume, based on the logic of a faulty start.. We never question the workings of an old system. They said it never stopped raining, so wear the hat if it's ****** in. Mask, phone, wallet, keys; These are the bare necessities. Tools to make slave of our own desire. The ball and chain of memory set our own souls on fire.
let’s blur truth behind our forest of strings teased by blocks, and below they dance these real boy nows clap for the show say your lines sing like me I’m your queen baubles like pebbles shine my fingers please watch the firewood gambol **** the harvest, so languid shape your hips just like me oh they'll swoon just for you please dance for the show marionette toy! oh sing these strings up high what ballet they pull take a try no my turn now pull the garrotes you're kindling to us