Hey there mister thinks he Kerouac,
Dressed from head to toe in jet black,
Shout out to fight invisible enemies,
Social diseases that ain’t got no remedies,
Can’t you see what’s wrong with your reality?
Can’t you see that you gotta be free?
Nobody’s shocked, you gotta learn to walk.
Hey there mister drunk on enmity,
You got a problem, it’s that problem with me,
Think you gotta fight the folks on the streets at night,
Think it’s a sin to have colored skin,
Can’t you see that that ain’t racial purity?
Can’t you see it’s not “You or me”?
Won’t get stomped by your docs, you gotta learn to walk.
Angel of Judgment shining above me,
Can't understand me and won't learn to love me,
Think you got it down?
You don’t make a sound,
Look under your heel at all them ghosts I found.
Hey there mister Lou Reed wannabe,
Gotta guitar case full of everybody’s sympathy,
Fire and strife are how you make your life,
Pain and decay are all you got to say,
Can’t you see you ain’t got no integrity?
Can’t you see I won’t pay the fee?
You don’t know how to rock, you gotta learn to walk.
Hey there mister corporate nobody,
Lookin at you I got nothing to see,
Selling people a truckload of apathy,
Shirt on your back says “As seen on tv,”
Can’t you see you ain’t who you wanna be?
You know full well you got nothing to sell,
Your souls outta stock, you gotta learn to walk.
Hey there mister shoutin the people down,
What you done for the folks comin round?
Give em money to stay at the Marriott?
Did you build the homes they ain’t got?
Can’t you see they don’t want no litany?
Can’t you see you’re not the one to be?
I should talk, I gotta learn to walk.
(Artwork by Nick Gucker)
from A Monday
released September 25, 2012
Music - Wick Hill
Lyrics - Garrett Cook
Vocals - Garrett Cook
all rights reserved