Plastics

I wanna shake this town like a disease
But let a few symptoms remain
I don't mind the headaches and I've grown to like
The taste of acid rain

The water tastes like medicine
And the medicine tastes like dirt
I know that it's supposed to be helping
But is it supposed to hurt

Treatments have gone on since the plants set up in town
Families have all withered away
Their graves are covered in dust from the winds
That blow leaves where our children play

My heart slows down and it skips a beat
When we drive by the factories
The roads may be new, but were too poor to sue
Our taxes pave roads for SUVs

I might miss this place once the forests are displaced
And the farmers are all broke
Trees are only stumps that aren't useful anymore
History in an antique store