a cadillac drives down my street a bead of sweat pouring slow down a palm line i see a bumper sticker it s a bearded man with a wanted sign a myth we ve made to scare our fears away a slogan that we slap on all our misdirected hate a muddy symbol meant to mitigate our pain but it s really just a desert corpse we painted on a wall out in some cave anyway i don t know where he s gonna park that thing my neighborhood drunk s on line at the deli with his shaky hands and swollen face he waits for his coffee he blacks out curbside every night and every day crawls back toward wall street so i don t see it like it s us and them i just see everybody working for that same eternal weekend droning on and on and on and never doing what we ve wanted heavy legs two steps behind some forever dangling carrot and i m tired of it well who s to say that we can t just fucking change it well i know it seems dramatic but i treat it like a crisis from the office to the coffin all our time and talent wasted and that weight against your throat is that a noose dressed like a necklace from here i couldn t really tell the difference either way i say let s not take any chances cause i don t know where he s gonna park that thing no i don t know where he s gonna park that thing no i don t know where he s gonna park that thing