Happy 4th of July from No Humans Allowed
Posted Jul 03, 2011
This is our love song to a dying empire. Since we released No Humans Allowed back on May 5th of this year, the final track on the album is the one I get the most emails about. (This is a pattern for me.)
“Good Night, America” is about the fact that it’s all downhill from here for residents of the United States. Lou’s verse is driven by his daily work routine in the lap of high finance luxury, and my verse was driven by the hippies who think I’m down with their anemic little ”cause.” We have no sympathy, no mercy and even less patience. You are in a burning house. Act accordingly.
“Good Night, America” Lyrics
(Thirtyseven)
I can make the case for euthanasia to a room of strangers
...not just convincing them, convincing them to do it later
you’re saying life is beautiful but you’re a stupid hater
I’m basing that on basic math that you can prove on paper
…I can set the weapons on the stage and walk away
you can’t direct improvisation, you’ve just gotta pray
but you can bet this modern age has gotta pop someday
and you don’t even wanna contemplate the way this all relates
...and I can see that we’ve been freaking you out
shoulders up, little stoner stuck deep in the couch
you cobra clutch social drugs to keep people around
but you know it’s a joke and they see through it now, ouch…
I can bet that we do not agree for lots of reasons…
won’t matter when we’ve lost our heat and crops are freezing
won’t matter when you’ve gotta keep your Mom from screaming
cuz she’s watching zombies feeding off her daughter’s body pieces
(Louis Mackey)
I wonder… does the strain end in this vicious maze?
we’re all seeing under the same lens with different shades
it’s a shame, when we’re hollow and done...to sit and wait
for the sickle blade to swallow us up, and hit the grave
pain’s deep, probably smothered out your faint dreams
wake, sleep, walking up and down the same street
going manic with this same shit, I can’t obey the matrix
frozen fabric in space, moving animated faces
rabid mannequins standing in a straight line
its hard to handle this and exist at the same time
...I pass by the old theater, stuck in the rain
they’re grippin’ cups for our change, I act like I don’t see em’
though it’s getting dark, I handle my payload
...swim with sharks, dance with the angels
and I’ve made it far to see the ease with which
saints get shot, thieves get rich…
Filed in: The Music
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