light a Newport, get a paper from the porch | cant believe the
bars don't let the people smoke indoors | an empty beer can, a
couple old sales receipts | movie ticket stubbs, a pizza box from
last week | watching westerns on his black and white tv set |
digital converter box the government made him get | stain in his
shag carpet, no time to clean it yet | thinking about hittin the
bank and cashing his check
back when it all was simple | before they took it all away | they
sold us all tomorrow | then they stole our yesterday
take a ride, hop inside the delta 88 | roadmap and an atlas is
on his backseat | dice is in the mirror, pine trees keep the air
fresh | reach into the glovebox and pull out his favorite cassette
| damn, thinking music just aint what it used to be | aint been
the same since CDs and MTV | he miss the vinyl LPs and the
milkcrates | so right before he walk in the bank he flip the tape
back when it all was simple | before they took it all away | they
sold us all tomorrow | then they stole our yesterday
teller ask how he's doing, he says fine | they let him know he can
check his account balance on line | he laughs, and say truthfully
"that's out of the question" | cause he heard about the internet
but still don't trust it | get on the freeway, its under construction
all the time | glance down at the buildings crowding the skyline |
most of the spots he used to frequent all closed | they call it
"progress", he calls it "nightclubs & condos"
back when it all was simple | before they took it all away | they
sold us all tomorrow | then they stole our yesterday