Me and Ed Loyce

The vagrant on that corner who is speaking to birds
Is as crazy as the commute on their way from home to work
Well hey ya'll! We're gonna get apocalyptic!
And I need it to be just so damn apocalyptic!
We're all down to get down. Down down to get down
If on our knees will be the lead to the top of the food chain

Let the foxes dig holes in the stations
(Ain't this such a grand new dark age!)
Why shouldn't they believe that their homes just an Asbury park!

In the opposing hand were bulky two-inch thick
Overlapping pages of white paper
Whose flawless black print in a comparison
To our chewed nails was much fucking smaller
No one around here ever seems to notice the
Mountains awaiting out east
(But that carrot is within reach!)
(That carrot is within reach!)
So we've got to get down just to get down
And we keep on tracking the beast

So do you hear the tune
Of a thousand trampled streets
They sing me off to sleep
Where I am chased by stampeding machines
Only to awake to give into the chase all again and

Do you hear the tune
Of a thousand trampled streets
They sing me off to sleep
Where I am chased by stampeding machines
Only to awake to give into the chase all again