What money paid for
The good madAn endless chorus of beeping and countless digits
We're praying to God from these holes that we're digging
Oh I get that it's all cataclysmic and someday we'll fall
What good is a warning?
Like old men before me I'll rise up and meet the road
I have no fear of the crash of the tumbling markets
Why bother saving with holes in my pockets?
It's all a relic someday we can all look back
And wonder what money paid for
Hold on lover, it's never the worst that we've seen
There's nothing new
I would gladly talk through tin cans with some string tied between
Over land, over sea
They'll threaten you as far as their guns can reach
Don't think about it, or what allowed it
Just enlighten
What do I worship? Send me my options
There's already too much, too much, too often
They say peace is boring, if that much is true
Why am I always running toward some pursuit?
I don't know
Oh, now the moon is shaking
Watching as his mother's taking
Stock of what has been done
So long
I have no fear of the crash of the tumbling markets
Why bother saving with holes in my pockets?
There's too many numbers that don't mean a thing
We should carve our initials into the machine
'Cause it's all a relic someday
We can all look back and wonder
What money paid for