Wheels Round Tires Flat
                    
        We are all high on Gas, Driving to Yoga Class,
        Push the Visa, Do the math, Save the tax
        It's quicker with a chainsaw then an ax.
        From Indians to the iron funace blast
        Driving on the street walking on the walk
        It's a blast, being high on Gas
        From Cadillacs to Jaguars
        We think we are beautiful when they pass
        We are all high sniffing on the Gas
        Cheney, Bush and Bin Laden.
        Putin, Kazakstan, the silk road west through,
        Afghanistan, White Man's Burden so they say.
        Going to the west that way...
        Walking down the sidewalk.. Sitting in a Chair..
        The Carbon Monoxide it's alway's there..
        Mad as hatters,
        Disappearing on a background of dark matter.
        Cotton shipped and Assembled in Jamaica Indonesia,
        China or Malay.. Makin plastics with lousy seams OK.
        We can burn forever so It seem's, Look forward and beam.
        In our cities we race to the stoplights
        Use Credit cards and Speed passes
        Car leases for the masses. Own a house own a car
        Drive it to the mall. Waiting for a fall.
        Call the Auto Association when it happens to stall
        Everything same and included we think its OK..
        Just fill up the tank and drive away..
        Why should tommorrow be different then today.
        Its a Gas, Refined and burning in the Mass
        It's the heat for the Tarmac...
        Gets the kids to School,Its the warship,
        The economies golden Mean and Rule...
        It's the even keeled office building
        Alway's full of fools Where are we going..
        Without knowing.. To the Moon.?
        Mars, maybe Again, Nylon and Paint
        Tar sands, Bitumen, Cars from Korea and Japan
        All like ants speeding across the land
        Acid Rain and dust, Shine rust and Lust
        Sit around the fire, my home is native land.
        T.P. comes on a roll. In a hurry,,
        No sense of a Goal.. A whole city
        No food production or housing materials in sight
        Just millions of vehicles and everybodies right
        Activists and Busymen The globes heating UP.
        I got an appointment with miss such and such
        Computers files stocks and year end Reports
        Out at Augusta acting like good sports..
        Friday Morning Tuesday Night.. Worlds organized..
        And I ain't living right.
        I looked to long. I've seen to deep
        I see an incline even if its not steep
        Can't Keep a perimeter no more
        You see a wall, I don't mean all
        But I see a bank of windows and doors
        I see tomorrows tree's in todays floors
        That mirror and pocket compact
        A dusting for lusting and corporate trusting
        A mirror a mask, If men won't do it
        A woman's up for the task...
        Zionists, The Jihad fist Muslim fundamentalists.
        Material as the final solution
        Military Mite and spiritual dissolution
        Globe warming, Hatred Forming..
        What you gonna do tomorrow morning..