The People of Straight Land Lyrics

The people of straight-land
All live in a row.
Tiny little boxes,
And no-where to go.
You've got to get a job
To maintain the position.
A bright, happy dream
As prescribed by your physician.

The people of straight-land
Have really got it made.
A warm friendly sleep
From the cradle to the grave.

A bright plastic lie of cash and credit.
A huge, gray fantasy you'll really want to edit.

The people of straight-land
Are really not alive.
We walk and speak
But only just survive.
We move around
But under direction.
We cannot see
The larger perception.

There people of straight-land
Make a silent scream.
Desperate to escape this death day-dream.
Rotting from the inside
It's really not polite.
You've got to shield your eyes
From such an everyday sight.