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Fiver
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Rage of Plastics
It was the rage of plastics, I was 24
I was doing my time on the dance floor.
It was all polyester and leopard print
And fabergė coming off the ladies.
It's a blight to the brightest how our designs unseam,
Like the backside of some skirt in some old man's dream.
I got caught putting off all my traveling plans for this refinery job and his maybes.
Hair in ribbons, stockings in runs,
Fashion bricks out of the breaks as they come.
Land goes for less downwind of the plant,
There's no telling how long you'll be paying.
There are scores of us born in the silent spring,
Whose wombs don't take, won't bear anything.
He had want for a daughter, I had want for a son,
Now I rock my moon faced man like one.
Was it the river on fire that made us what we became?
Was it the cup that we drank from, or what it contained?
Does it move to the beat of the oil drums,
or flow out of our eyes as we're wailing?
I see it rise in ribbons to the clouds over hung,
Just to spit back down on everyone.
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Land goes for less downwind of the plant,
There's no telling how long you'll be paying.
I have tried to be patient as I've been made nurse,
Get some help from the percs of my devotion's curse,
And I know, yes I know, the man's pain is much worse,
For the moon and his grace are now waning.
You say the first one now will later be last,
My faith in scripture's come to pass.
Na I won't play dumb, I'm done trying to sweeten this load.
You give me a ribbon, you tell me to run,
To lend my legs to that narcissus fund.
Land goes for less downwind of the plant
Making this living just brings about dying.
I got a rage of plastics, the refinery floor.
I got a rage of plastics and nothing more.
I won't play dumb and I'm done lying,
Making this living just brings about dying.
Land goes for less downwind of the plant,
Making this living just brings about dying.
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