Lyrics
Every culture's got a demise
Don't look now, oh the prices, they'll rise!
An ounce of custard, a barrel of crude
Wholesale shoppers yeah we're talking to you!
He'll get to the office, but what can he do?
Hands been tied by the mess we've been through
"A new American Century?" Give us a break!
An entire generation's got nowhere to escape!
It's a predicament, what do you know?
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
In a predicament, where can you go?
Oh Oh Oh
Every crisis comes to an end
Case in point: this conversation, my friend
We were never exceptional, we were never in charge
There's no "City on a Hill" - it's all gone!
I came down from the ceiling and got it for you.
It was a Buttersaw, it was a Buttersaw
