Crimes

(альбом: Crimes - 2004)

There's a fire on
Junk Island, where
They send their garbage
Is anybody listening?

After work we'll watch
The seagulls, diving in
And out of the lashing towers of flame

It twinkles like a pile
Of rotting jewels, left
To bake in the sun
Is anybody listening?

And we're just like those condom wrappers:
Used up, torn up, thrown away
And we're just like yesterday's headlines:
Drifting, floating, towards the blaze

And if we rob the
Liquor store we, could
Be in Tijuana by the crack of dawn
And if we rob the
Mayor's mansion
We could pawn his modern art and make a fortune
And if we rob the lonely widow
We could steal her credit cards
And buy a cottage by the ocean
And we could swim out to Junk Island
We'll burn up like the seagulls and the whiskey bottles

We're scrapped valentines
We're tangerine rinds
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes
We're scrapped valentines
We're tangerine rinds
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes
We're scrapped valentines
We're tangerine rinds
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes
We're scrapped valentines
We're tangerine rinds
We're crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes, crimes

And the children
In the subway
Eating apple cores
Is anybody listening?
They're breathing paint out of plastic bags
Their mumbled mouths say:
"Is anybody listening?"