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Silvia.rae

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PJ Harvey & Björk - Satisfaction (1994)

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they were digging a new foudation in Manhattan and they discovered a slave cemetary there may their souls rest easy now that lynching is frowned upon and we've moved on to the electric chair and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer? and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer? howabout we put up a wall between houses and the highway and then you can go your way , and i can go my wayexcept all the radios agree with all the tvs and all the magazines agree with all the radios and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go maybe i should put a bucket over my head and a marshmallow in each ear and stumble around for another dumb-numb week for another hum drum hit song to appearpeople used to make records as in a record of an event the event of people playing music in a room now everything is cross-marketing its about sunglasses and shoes or guns and drugs you choose we got it rehashed we got it half-assed we're digging up all the graves and we're spitting on the past and you can choose between the colors of the lipstick on the whores cause we know the difference between the font of 20% more and the font of teriakiyi you tell me how does it...make you feel?you tell me what's ...real? and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics even when they're as dry as my lips for years even when they're stranded on a small desert island with no place in 2,000 miles to buy beer and i wonder is he different? is he different? has he changed? what's he about?... or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about?Am i headed for the same brick wall is there anything i can do about anything at all? except go back to that corner in Manhattan and dig deeper, dig deeper this time down beneath the impossible pain of our history beneath unknown bones beneath the bedrock of the mystery beneath the sewage systems and the path drain beneath the cobblestones and the water mains beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels beneath everything i can think of to think about beneath it all, beneath all get out beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel there's a fire just waiting for fuel

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