how am I supposed to prosper
when I can barely Stay Alive
I'm in New York like Tony Manero
but don't nobody seem to care, though
there's no escaping the day-to-day in decision making
pay-to-play, the way to the top is either invigorating
or intimidating, maybe both - if it's breaking your spirit
no use of dancing to the music if you can't hear it
I used to doubt, but check the message, cuz it's true
the world will carry on without a clue, without you
the masses tend to move in a counter-active pursuit
they're living for the moment like a fully-ripened fruit
never caring that it fell within the reach of the root
or that a tree releases seeds so that its soul can reproduce
cracked sprout dug into the dirt and never backing out
Jack shout rubber-banded tongue and a slack mouth
locked jaw rock star impervious to criticism
worried by my own voices forcing me to listen
a flurry of phrases, floating random and ageless
that I manifest out of thin air and then paste on the pages
how am I supposed to flourish
when I'm always in a mess?
I'm in New York like PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke
it's highs and lows like a weather report
how am I supposed to advance?
when the tunnel of the train's blocked
I'm in New York like hip-hop since the 70's
paying taxes and penalties
it's who you know in this crazy stew, but I'm working hard
paying for my lunch with a $20 rewards card
saving up my pay stubs like report cards, good citizen!
A is for arranging all your debt to be forgiven
both consumer and human, you get a B for the balance
although you might cruise to a C if the curve causes a callous
nerve gas in Syria, murdered masses a past-time
no need for an expiration date, already past mine
sour as a Flemish ale, and tower over towns
grabbing clouds, diverting power surges, two feet on the ground
it moves me to tears, to see these new pioneers
they google-eyed and fluid-filled, I'm lucid and clear
taking a page from 80's rappers with the intricate patterns
with all these child actors, does it really even matter?
the masses are duped, I'm just a splash in the soup
soon for an ending scene like James Dean crashing the coupe
how is this supposed to end
when I can't see past the given day?
I'm in New York like Kid-N-Play
(I'm in New York like Tina Fey)
credits
from ALBEDO,
released April 8, 2016
beat by All These Fingers
lyrics by Jack Wilson
