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lyrics

Every building in this town's on fire
The telephone's coronary lines are jammed
The operator has gone into cardiac arrest

The sidewalk's crumbling
The traffic lights are blind
Orators mumbling
And sunshine on the front page of the Times.
Well, nothing's news anymore

The mayor has been booted out,
The devil's on his knees
The banker's counting with his hands
The priests do as they please
The army man is cowered in the corner

The blaze is through the roof
The roof is caving in
In the place of man
Man your battle stations
Stationary pictures
Pictures of our conquest
Conquest over conceit
Concede all this failure
Failure to recapture
Capture all your comrades
Comrades flee like worries
When you're faced with what you are,
Why do you worry like you do?

Have you tapped out?

The city lights are burning bright, illuminate the dead of night, and deadbeats that all gathered here when the town forgot its name.

Maybe we should go our separate ways.

Go on, pack your things, I think it's time to go.
Don your Sunday best, we're getting out of here.
Finish stealing towels and say your goodbyes to the neighbors.
No one wants to see your face around here again.

And nobody will answer if you call
(sunshine on the front page of the Times...)

credits

from The Waterworks (demo), released January 1, 2004
P Davis: Acoustic guitar
Bass
Drums
Organ
Electric guitar
Vocals

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Pete Davis Princeton, New Jersey

zany folk music for nerds

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