1. Basement Song
In cart Not available Out of stock


it’s cold down in the basement that i’m renting for the time
streets outside are quiet, three more hours ‘til the grind
when alarms will sound in unison, this sleepy town will rise
to start another day with neither fanfare nor surprise

and the weather will be overcast and then will turn to rain
folks will secretly be happy for the excuse to complain
but the rain will sound like symphonies cascading of the town’s
victorian roofs with angles that the drops come rolling down

and my day will start of soggy, shoes have holes through to my feet
as i stumble to the corner store to get something to eat
the cute girl at the register will smile as if to say,
“ain’t we both in this together,” then she’ll send me on my way

hey yea yea yea

and the mayor with the shiny shoes will be at old town hall
his brother chief of police will catch truants at the mall
and mothers with their babies, off to daycare, then to work
i’ll be heading to the alley where the poets always lurk

and i’ll be seeing things in harmony, smelling them in rhyme
you know the kind of day when you can sink within the time
and the conflict then will rise, do i choose to concentrate
on all the things i love or try to fix the things i hate

‘cause we american’s dig our sitcoms, music, ballgames and french fries
and our teachers, they need raises and our schools, they need supplies
and resilience of the spirit goads the will to carry on
and the moon, it chase the sun around the earth to bring the dawn

hey yea yea yea

and a new prez was elected, but change it happens slow
and it's hard to keep it straight when you are living down below
'cause i'm down in the basement tryin to contemplate the scene
of a trillion spent on stimulus and what it's gonna mean

and the business folk are nervous ‘cause their cuts may be repealed
meanwhile they’re steppin over homeless on route to make the deal
while kids with calloused fingers serve in war and take their lumps
so the wealthy kids with suv’s can pay less at the pumps

but a hundred years from now all our troubles will be gone
we’ll be searching out new planets after fucking up our own
we’ll pick us out a winner, plant a sturdy flag and then
ship up a few religions, and do it all over again

hey yea yea yea