1. Motion Sickness

wipe the dead skin from these keys
so i can start this one off clean
let me introduce the scene
act 1 scene 1 a baby grand with broken strings
enter stage left a drifter lost and foraging
and in his hand a notebook filled up with his out-of-tune musings
he turns a page and he plays and sings this song

five billion suffering while i sleep underground
always en route to the next goodbye
a mother slaps her child but the kid don’t make a sound
and to my surprise neither do i

so i’ll just cut out my tongue and rip out my lungs
‘cause they’re useless and atrophied
and i’ll fly them like kites applauding their sacrifice
oh yes it’ll be one great afternoon
hell yes it’ll be one great afternoon
when these burdens fly away like red balloons

have i gone insane
dreaming of hijacking this train
tears stream as i accelerate
to speeds where time willingly dilates
and i’ll watch this world die through these windows
it’s blurring but I still see people who could use my help
so I reach out
but i’m moving too fast
so I cry loud
i can’t hold my grasp

with no home my only keys are these yellowed ivories
and i’ll ask them rhetorically
is this all that my hands can do?

2. The Play’s The Thing

we were waiting tables in times square when we got the call
to play the part of revolutionaries who helped bring about an empire’s fall
we’ve toiled in the service industry
so we could be here waiting
waiting in the wings
we’re counting on these songs to set us free

the stories of the great revolutions
are passionately told on this stage
we need no director’s motivation
we know quite well the roles that we play

the patrons pay the handsome ticket price without batting an eye
and mingle towards their seats
they do not feel the drama in between the stage and mezzanine
they’ve come for the spectacle of actors dismantling their machines
they smile because they know it’s just fantasy

the echoes of the old revolutions
resound in theaters lining broadway
the suits and gowns give standing ovations
can’t we unseat them some other way

in the stage left balcony there’s two old men heckling me
they’re shouting that i sing off-key
and the show’s a classic tragedy
stage lights
it’s hard to see
that we’re still working 42nd street

the rumors of a failed revolution
are verified when we take the stage
we have no time to seek liberation
we’re happy to merely entertain

there’s whispers of a new revolution
that linger on our lips while we sing

3. Frostbite

am i still really here even though I hate this weather
and with each passing year i swear it’s my last winter
but i’m still living here with wet hands stuck in the freezer
i’ve got a choice and either way it’s gonna sting

goddamn it’s cold
i haven’t seen the sun in weeks
and I hate this weather
cold
like hell it’s cold
the gray is creeping onto me
so let’s stick together
cold

it used to be different here
my friends they all lived so close
but when the first frost appeared they flew west before the lake froze
now I’m still dying here with my tongue against the flagpole
i’ll be numb soon but i’ll save face waiting ‘til spring

will i hold on until the snow turns to rain
can i hold on until i see you again

the warnings were clear
nothing grows in the tundra
now i’ve been frozen for years
and still begging for the summer to get me out of here
but i can’t wait any longer
this town can keep all of the flesh i leave behind

goddamn it’s cold
i think the sun has gone to sleep
and i hate this weather
cold
aw fuck it’s cold
the gray is taking over me
so goodbye forever
cold

now i’m told that the crew is deicing my plane
so just hold on i’m coming to see you again

4. Tires and Mint

bright
the flash of the knife
blinding glimmers of light bouncing back off the scalpel
shrill
the whine of the drill
the sickening chill of spinning steel ‘gainst the nerves
choke
the heat of the smoke
the blood starts to soak the smell of burning molars
pain
his words are deranged
we’re gonna try this one without novocain

fangs
sparsely arranged
i hate to complain but this looks kind of strange
doubt
just pull the rest out
i think that my mouth would be fine with some dentures
shit
aw sonofabitch
something is amiss, why is the dentist swearing
attack
of copper and wax
my gums turning black pull back the molds and you’ll find
bloody designs
my mouth is a fire-bombed skyline

a bony playground geek hiding secrets in my cheeks
never smiling
they teased my snaggleteeth
now this butcher’s carving me like holiday turkey

grin
now stick out your chin
we’ll glue porcelain onto those nasty chompers

see you next time and thank you for the potty mouth
now i’m kissing asses and eating shit
have the magazines send down a photographer for my before-and-after pics

stunned
i rinse off my gums
the lingering scum tastes like tires and mint
alive
somehow i survived
the dentists hi-five and say
now you’re perfect

5. Way Down in Gitmo

way down in gitmo
that’s guantanamo bay
that’s where bad guys belong
even if they’ve done no wrong
‘cause we need someone to blame

well our nation gets a bit more safe each time I bake my special cake
with the red white and blue icing on the top
and i shout the loudest usa each time i’m in the church to pray
and i drink gasoline to support the troops in iraq
those terrorists are just a lousy god and war-crazed bunch
and i can’t understand them because they’re nothing like us
it’s a shame that they hate freedom ‘cause it’s pretty awesome stuff
but since they do they won’t mind when we lock them up

thank god for gitmo
that’s guantanamo bay
keep them chained to the floor
‘cause we’re fighting this war
the american way

well on the news they often say that this upcoming holiday
is the perfect time for another attack
it’s not based on intelligence but still it makes a lot of sense
to be on alert and always watch my back
but if i don’t have my barbecue the terrorists have won
and if my neighbor brings his arab friends I’ll call the pentagon
this war on terror’s going so great because all the muslims
have been kind enough to give up all their rights

oh god bless gitmo
bless guantanamo bay
when there’s a hunger strike
we force-feed them to life
‘cause we need someone to blame

now don’t you see we can’t charge them with anything
they’re guilty ‘cause we want someone to bleed

no don’t you see that torture’s what we need
we hurt them ‘cause we need someone to bleed

don’t you see september changed everything
we’ll have no peace until someone out there bleeds

don’t you see they cannot be freed
we keep them ‘cause we need someone to bleed

6. Intermission

None

7. A Dirge For The Underground

every evening we meet downtown slip underground into the basements
there’s an agent who’s tracking us he knows what’s up he’s felt vibrations
shake this quiet town but now his ear is to the ground
our secret’s out
pack up the gear
load up the van and hurry back to the safe house
send a wire through the network that they’ve infiltrated the resistance
so we gotta burn our records now

c’mon and burn them up
and melt them down into a statue for the town
a monument to the underground
we’ll destroy all documents that could prove that we exist
they’ll be sifting through ashes desperate for the evidence

no they won’t stop ‘til they find something to sell
all they’re gonna find are bombshells

c’mon and blow it up
the whole compound
with distortion that resounds
a memorial for the underground
and so we’ll burn it down

on the periscope we watch familiar informants selling us out
they trade for bad haircuts, some tight black pants and a sparkling new sound
now the radio transmits a hollow carcass of the resistance
‘cause they’ve gutted out the urgency and replaced it with impotence

our sweat is more than bleeding stage make-up
our words aren’t trite they’re bloody dangerous
our songs are the lifeblood of the resistance

c’mon and tear it up
and burn it down with explosions of our sound
and dig a grave for the underground
but the songs stuck in our heads won’t be burned and left for dead
they’re the songs we’ll never sell
we keep them locked within ourselves
c’mon and tear it up

no they won’t stop ‘til they find something to sell
there’s nothing to find ‘cause we blew it all to hell

8. The Kids’ War

what’s that rotten smell
the stench of morning headlines
someone’s trying to sell a war of ignorance
with newspapers passed out in our schools
and every morning children recite an oath to fools

oh no those are words my lips won’t make
i couldn’t fake blind allegiance
to a dead ideal while kids follow what I say
i should’ve hit the lights and said
stop
kids you’re writing your own pledges now
and if you need ideas i’ll tell you when i was your age

yes you could see me dancing in the streets
in front of soldiers in battle armor called the state police
i saw my parents standing next to me
and i thought this is what it’s like, to bring your kids up right
and i looked up and smiled

thinking people can’t be mind-controlled
history knows this
so we’ll teach our children to be skeptical of the government
they’ll question all the lies they’re ever told
they’ll be fearless when they stop worshipping the flagpole
and reject what they’ve been sold

then you will hear them chanting in the streets
a sea of children singing so loud
the sound is deafening
this war machine will collapse in disbelief
and the hawks will lose their wings and cry
for forgiveness for their crimes
and the kids will nod and smile

9. The Party Party

Dear Mr. Scott,

I recently got your letter supporting gay rights and how you’d like me in the fight. I send regrets to you and your friends. It’s hard to hear because my ears are plugged with my own career ambitions. Re-Elect me this November!

Most Sincerely,
Your Senator

i think that this nation
needs some invitations
this coming friday we’re taking congress
with a strobe light and a promise
to reclaim democracy
with a righteous party

at a big white house with plenty of couch space to crash
if you get smashed
and the tenants are always on vacation
i’m pretty sure that everyone is coming out to washington
we are constituents this is their chance to represent

so we stormed the floor of congress
where there was an awkward silence
‘til ted kennedy crossed the aisle
and said I could go for a highball
the people cheered and said we’ll take ya’
to 1600 pennsylvania
orrin hatch is there to dj
slayer into public enemy
trent lott showed up late with kid ‘n’ play
now this is really a house party
the keg is kicked but that is okay
i gave the beer money to tom delay

there’s a donkey on the helipad doing rail lines with an elephant
rick santorum’s got his shirt off
i think he’s grinding michael chertoff
we’ll play dress-up with obama
he looks good in bush’s pajamas
feinstein sure knows how to rage
she puked in miss beazley’s cage
when the cops come go get feingold
he can treat them to some rheingold
hey who brought the zima
i think it was scalia
looks like lieberman sort of passed out in the middle of a make out
tancredo’s playing beer pong with illegal aliens

10. Blackout

twilight sharpened as i put my hood up and walked into town
all the streets were empty like my stomach
so i had to see what i could scrounge
just like every town before

knock knock
at every door no answer
i snuck up to their windows for a peek
inside each house i saw silhouettes
against the blue lights of their television screens

and so i climbed the hill where power stations overlooked the town
i found the generators threw the switch and shut the whole thing down
i turned to see hundreds of flickering blue lights die in the night
the darkness that followed was broken by a single candlelight

so i descended into town
the candlelight was multiplying now
and the silent streets were filling up with townspeople laughing

i asked a smiling woman if she had something that we could eat
she thanked me for the great idea and dashed to her home down the street
soon she returned her arms full with a bounty of bread wine and cheese
her neighbor winked and organized a group to bring tables and seats

and so we all sat down and i raised a glass of wine
and declared a toast to meeting these old friends for the first time
and someone played guitar and kids banged pots and pans
and we all sang old songs
the kind that no one can forget
and then we all took turns telling our best tales
the kind that start out true but end up taller than ten whales
that’s when someone spoke up and said
this here gathering is a neighborhood
the kind I always hoped this town would be

right then the power came back on
and then the man next to me checked his watch
and said thank god my shows are on
and so they blew their candles out
and hurried back to be inside each house
where glowing blue lights had come back to reclaim the night

the smoke hung in the air but everyone had gone
that was the best I’d get from this town so I ventured on
now with my belly full i walked the empty streets
between the rows of houses whose blue lights lit up my feet
but much to my surprise
one house stood alone
it was completely dark save one candle in the window
i stopped and then i smiled
but i had no time to rest
i knew that pretty soon i would be hungry again

11. We’ll Always Be Home

we’ve splashed in the streams in the canyons nearby
where the walls are so old you can see them bleed time
this stream cut the land
a gash long and deep
and we’ve played in the wound dancing on history
but back in the town i’ve stayed in time’s cage
where once every year they shout out my age
and there’s much talk of work and of money and land
but it’s useless to me ‘cause I’ve got bigger plans

so will you meet me on the bank of a river that will take us far away
we’re just two kids floating downstream
and don’t worry ‘bout the rent
we can trust that this current will bring us to a land where we’ll be our own lords

the trap’s everywhere
a ruthless timeline
and we follow in fear that we might fall behind
that we might fall behind
but i’m not leaving joy for the bookends of life
so i’m renouncing my age and i’m going on strike
and no wage will suffice
i’m leaving this behind

if primetime tv and credit card debt if a new auto lease and real estate investments
are all that we have then we’re already dead
so let’s rob our own graves and sneak out of this pen
and there’s only one place where we can escape
and that’s on the run so that’s where we’ll stay
and we’ll leave what we own and we’ll leave what we know
but we’ll be together so we’ll always be home
we’ll always be home

so will you meet me on the shore of an ocean to restore us to ourselves
we’re just two kids playing in the sand
we’ll build castles to the sky
and we won’t worry ‘bout the tide
because we know what we create does not survive
we’re only in this for the ride

12. Flamethrower

wash the dried blood from these strings
so i can close this one pristine
now let me summarize the theme

on the platform a guitar case hiding old rhymes
a pillow for one more assassin killing time
but wanting more than bouncing back and forth on jersey transit lines
he strums a chord so that the bored commuter throng
can hear his song

these bastards drove the world to dystopian hell
and we’re just waiting for the next train
the newsstands never offer the obvious news
that our carnage is coming back our way

so i will fill up each lung with napalm and nitrogen
because i’m ready to march up to the battlefields today
and my tongue will be the flame that torches their campaign
oh yes it will be one great afternoon
hell yes it will be one great afternoon
when my words can pacify a whole platoon

we’ve all gone insane riding on this runaway train
hurtling us towards a dark, dark age
where war and famine rage without end until we all are gone
the smell of fresh-cut lawns mixing with fear
that’s where denial breeds
because the suffering isn’t out on their own street
that’s where I freak out
i’m right in their faces and i scream loud
we cannot sustain this
our future is on the line and we must fight to survive
and i’ll shout this as i ride like revere on the masspike
and i’ll find out what my voice can do