Uninspired, this gun's for hire,
won't you set my hair on fire?
Been deceived, cause I believe,
How's it feel there at the wheels,
ghost ship haulin' heavy steel?
Greasy rain, coast of Maine,
is the first mate and the chef.
Drunk as lords, white curly cords
will not ease your brain.
Uninspired, I'm on the wire,
soggy matches at the fire.
I'm concerned that it won't burn,
Start the truck, eat your mush
Find a gap, shut your traps
Stuff that could be worn by kings
Money talks, sidewalk chalk
Uninspired, just bone -dry tired
Campaign rain and warnings dire
Straight to hell, ring a bell
Kiss and roll your eyes and tell
your story's worth a lot today
Tomorrow it won't be worth squat
Whether it's the truth or not
Barrel rolls and micro dots
Splatter paint, scatter shots
Uninspired, the chief's a liar
His limousine has three flat tires
He cuts up through the whitening gyre
The sinner cannot hold the ire
Of all the feel to pull the fence
You see it's time to mend the fence
Torn and rusting on the field
Some uniform cloth upward wheels
As vultures listen, foreseen squeals
By scavengers and garbage birds
Who prowl the landfill piles that serve
As metaphors for what we are
Junkie zombies in our cars
Acid rain cloud thunder bars
To drink our fill, shoot the breeze
I'm uninspired and on my knees
4.8
