BRIGHT EYES - LIGHT POLLUTION

GJohn A Hobson waDs a good man
Amhe used to loan Cme books and mic stands
Ghe even got me aD subscription
Amto the SocialistC Review
Glistening to recDords in his basement
Amold folk songs aCbout the government
G"it's love of moDney, not the market,"
Amhe said, "these Cfuckers push on you.
Gand freedom yellDs, it dont cry.
Gwhatever sells wDill decide.
Gbut there is no Dhell when you die.
so dont Amlook so worried."
Ghe got a night lDife, lost his day job
Ampushing paper, sCwinging pendulums
Ganything to servDe a function
Amor to occupy somCe time
Gyou have got to Dearn this living somehow
Amyou are good as Cdead without a bank account
Gbut it is funny Dhow alive he felt down
Amin that unemployCment line
Gwith all the traDsh at his feet
Gthe pools of pisDs in the street
Gall of that filtDhy empathy
for the Amway we're feeling

G-D-Am-C (x2)

Gthe billboards sDhade, the flags they wave
Amthe anthem was pClaying loud
Gthe baseball gamDe was letting out
Amthen all at onceC he saw the dust
Gand heard every Dtiny sound
Amgot in his truckC and turned around
Gdrove out througDh the crowd and the cops
Amdrove out past tChat center mall
Gdrove out past tDhat sickening sprawl
Amout past that feCnced in gold
Gand maybe he losDt control
Gfucking with theD radio
Gbut i bet the stDars seemed so close
at the eAmnd