Untouched new and shiny, everything we wanted.
Nothing ever so pretty. That's the problem.
The familiar phone calls, two-way streets and the strip malls, nothing ever so easy
In air conditioned churches they pray, "I promise to change my ways."
You take it apart, a suburban broken heart, until the pieces disintegrate.
It's hard to be excited about all of this concrete, supermarkets and swap meets, too many things.
In air conditioned churches they pray
I promise to change my ways.
Until the pieces disintegrate
Why don't we just move, rent a truck and we'll prove we don't have to be this way.
It's the risk not the cost, the risk of knowing nothing at all, that keeps us in the same place.
Pretend we're all the same.
More from Citizens Here and Abroad