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The Lowest of the Low
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Last Lost Generation
You'll never make wine out of these grapes of wrath
The bells are tolling and our ship is sinking fast
And this brave new world we're living in
The walls are tar the roof is tin
It seems the revolution has become a sin
Nothing but humiliation for the last, lost generation
I can't believe we're gonna go through that again
I'd go downtown and drink some Guinness from a tin
But I'm flat broke and my U.I. ain't coming in
And excuse me if I take my time, she used to be a friend of mine
It feels weird standing in her unenjoyment line
In the Catholic mission of her mind, I'm down and out on my behind
But I remember her soup kitchen used to taste so fine
(Jackboots) The dream you bury
(Dog-hoops) Is the torch you carry
(Bad news) But is it necessary to fade away?
Whoops, there goes another thousand city workers
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The tightrope walkers of this economic circus
And before you build that Hooverville
Beware the 'Triumph of the Will'
Is just around the corner in a movie-still
And I have got some mouths to fill
And I think you should take a pill
And learn a lesson from the boys on Suicide Hill
I suffer from a slight hallucination
I share it with this whole lost generation
So pass the needle and the spoon
A cool death in the afternoon
I never thought mortality would come so soon
Or I could sit inside my room
Ejaculate another tune
And masturbate the day away like poets do
So true, you are the one
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