Laugh Track

Evening of March 19th
16 and clueless in 2003
At my friend Dylan's in the basement, smoking ditch weed on the sneak
Upstairs, his unfooled parents watched TV
Waited for the speech to end
And came upstairs to cop some vodka from the cabinet
Found his parents crying, standing there instead
Dancing slow to some song by The Grateful Dead

It's our folklore
To inherit the war
And pay it forward

Came of age, feeling saddled with that shame
20 years gone and so much of everything is still the same
'Cept the deserts turned to glass and dollars turned to pocket change
And the target of the shifting blame
Deny involvement while the laugh track rolls
Put it on a yard sign, let your neighbors all know
But it's as deeply us as is our very flesh and blood
Now let it go

Ain't no apocalypse, this ain't the end of days
This is the rust ring on the toilet drain we're circling
So take a deep breath, this ain't no tragedy
This is the sickness we insisted was our remedy

Don't stop now, we gotta swallow it down
Well, don't stop now, we gotta swallow it down
We gotta find a way out

(Ain't no apocalypse, this ain't the end of days) it's our folklore
(This is the rust ring on the toilet drain we're circling) to inherit the war
(So take a deep breath, this ain't no tragedy) and pay it forward
(This is the sickness we insisted was our remedy)