调:A major•
Verse 1
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Dm
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Dm
Mr. Thompson Thompson calls the waiter,
Orders steak and baked potato,
But he leaves the bone and gristle,
The busboy comes and takes it
With a cough contaminates it
He puts it in a can
Garbage! Garbage! Garbage!
What will we do and there's no place left
Garbage! Garbage! Garbage!
Garbage! Garbage!
Mr. Thompson starts his Cadillac
and winds it down the freeway track
leaving friends and neighbors
He's joined by lots of smaller cars
all sending gases to the stars.
There they form a seething cloud
Garbage! Garbage!
What will we do
when there's nothing left to
breathe but garbage?
Garbage!
Getting home and taking
off his shoes,
he settles with the evening news
While the kids do homework
While Superman for the thousandth time
sells talking dolls and conquers crime
Dutifully they learn the date
Garbage! Garbage! Garbage!
What will we do
when there's nothing
left to read?
When there's nothing left
to need?
Nothing left to watch.
Nothing left to touch.
Nothing left to walk upon.
And nothing left to talk upon.
There's nothing left to be but... GARBAGE!
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