Lyrics

a fist full of dollars and old tab collars running through my head
an old tennis racquet and brown suede jacket on the edge of my bed
there are thoughts of revolution and hot air pollution blowing through my window
this cannot be my life's crescendo

political leaders and parking meters seem to be
the instruments of the government to suppress the free
well that's you and me
baby maybe i think they be watching me
so i'll hide behind my life's crescendo

people hurry, the working class scurry around the streets
there are botox committees and fake, plastic titties and bus bombings
all of our political leaders say "fuck the Al Qaeda" and we all agree
this cannot be my life's crescendo

wup wup
wup wup
wup wup

you might like to drink your coffee cold
that's alright but you've been sold
oh baby you've been sold
take my hand we'll join the band as it shuffles on past our window
hold tight this just might be my life's crescendo