The Paranoid Style - Slush Fund City

Grandpa was a trainwreck
Daddy had it rough
Don’t you think three generations of imbeciles is enough?
In the twilight of the tsars no one gets nostalgia right anymore
It took a sixty-pound sack of colonial gems
And a two-pound purse of mescaline

Born and raised by way of committee
Made a prince in slush fund city
Won’t be happy until everything’s his
Welcome to the slush fund kids

Before another second passes
Before we go a minute further
I’ll need to see your corporate badges
And your donation numbers
Ulysses stranded in the bitter night spend the whole past decade freezing
Penelope said, “At least you’ve got a purpose in life – buddy, I just sit here weaving”

Free from guilt, inured of pity
The little boy king of slush fund city
When there’s not enough to eat
Keep ‘em away from slush fund street

At daybreak I take to a solitary place and I cross out the night before
I spent time by the Michigan lake
I spent time by the Michigan shore
Someone gave a word of advice – put it out to deep water and then wait for the catch
If you’re gonna do it once, then you’re gonna do it twice
That’s what the experts all suggest

Burned and razed and scorned and pitied
Bring ‘em all here to slush fund city
No satisfaction until they’re deceased
Drag ‘em all down to the slush fund street