This is the silence that comes from paying back debt,
I’m indebted to you, we’re all in this together, One for all
And one for each other, Well I’ve slept long enough in this
Facade of a dream world in this real world where my feet crunch
Over dollar bills on cobbled streets where rivers meet,
Stirred by sleet they rise and swell against these
Bastian walls, only time will tell etcetera
cliched phrase, etcetera
Well we were part of this star trek generation which assumed
Beings from all nations and across the universe spoke Anglais.
Now I’m afraid if we were ever speaking from the same language;
The same page, then we’ve underestimated how poor we are at
Understanding this riskier business they call banking
But seems more like a free for all, an unregulated brawl
In a tavern where the landlord sits and takes tabs.
Sometimes I wake as if I've fallen through the looking glass,
Found myself in wonderland, a never, never land,
Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, mere commodities to sell,
And those who found themselves here, deviated course and
Now live, underrated making pornographic films, in
These dust bowl cities, circling those cataclysms of foreclosure
Where catastrophe is creeping into the streets, sleeping
Next to those whose homes were on the edge of the bubble,
The trouble is this watermarked catastrophe has crawled into bed
And is snoring next to the government, Ignoring the
Sub-prime by watching prime-time television soap operas.
If they put onus on home ownership why won’t they own up
Like grown ups won’t own up to their kids when they make mistakes.
Now I haven’t been to Baltimore, but I’m sure if I did,
I’d feel bad for having grown up in a home
That wasn’t threatened with repossession,
And that my parent’s divorce was the closest I came to ever feeling remorse,
Well that might not be true of course but true apology is hard to come by these days.