I've got my bastion
You've got your shell
You're always pushing
On what you dwell
So I've been thinking
What's up with that?
You've got your shanty
I've got my camp
You rarely mention
the broader facts
You sing your siren
We get used to that
We open building doors
for working class
You step in the way
of Cadillacs
You're only kicking rocks from the eaves
And your aim is high
I see you hanging like a scarecrow
when your fields are dry
You're only kicking rocks from the eaves
And you aim too high
I get up and fill my haymow in the morning
I hear the reverends
whining in the back
I wished I had a czar
just to deal with that
I've got to move on
and cut the slack
Two point five million
won't hold me back
When will you light my soul?
The city nights are cold
When will you light my soul?
I don't care how punk rock you want to be
It just doesn't mean anything here to me
I don't care how punk rock you want to be
It just doesn't mean anything