They're tearing up streets again,
they're building a new hotel.
The mayor is out killing kids,
to keep taxes down.
And me and my anger sits,
folding a paper bird,
letting the curtains turn
to beating wings.
Wish I had a socket set,
to dismantle this morning,
just one pair of clean socks,
and a photo of you.
When you get off work tonight,
meet me at the construction site,
and we'll right some notes to tape,
to the heavy machines.
Like "We hope they treat you well."
"Hope you don't work too hard."
"We hope you get to be
happy sometimes."
And bring you swiss army knife,
and a bottle of something,
and I'll bring some spray p