Down at the waterhole an uneasy truce with the vipers and hippos,
Generally they just want to be alone, generally they just want to be left alone,
Data cables and calling card forms when all they want is a song to write words for,
Generally just want to be alone, generally want to be alone,
“Well you’re sloppy, Ed” he said, “you’re not gonna get a grant for that
The public broadcast or drive to work pablum crap, never waste a nanohertz with that,
But listen, you need a real publicist who’s still cordial with the Jian Ghomeshi set,
Who currently pushes online untested acts younger than their own children they neglect. In fact,
Their own flesh and blood, to see them, win affection for goodwill
Generally too busy for that, too busy for that parenting trap.
Those spawns, they gotta book a meeting, yeah that’s what they gotta do,
Just otherwise they’d just never see you,
That’s the sausage factory champ, who’ll get your music played on Q that connection.
Maybe even get an interview. Generally they don’t to even talk to you,
Generally they just have got themselves a job to do but no love,
just beholden to the task, the hand given.”
Up where the star charts go, the dimwit offspring of those who prefer to stay low,
Only show face on a WikiLeaks page to recommend their inbred nephew for an internship.
Sail away from out from underneath him to emulate the mothership,
Perpetuating shareholders’ values for them. If you want some issues
Try living up to the expectations of people born into these positions,
Seeing all the main as profane, poor trust fund baby, pass me some tissues.
Down at the trust fund dole where the inbred feeders of the elites go,
Generally they just want to be alone, generally just want to be alone,
Slap each other on their backs and faces, count the fingers after each shaky hand’s embraces,
Generally they just want to be alone, Generally just want to be alone.
Down at the waterhole where the family trust and the Dear John of estates go,
Generally they just want to be left alone, generally counting favours and duties shown,
Shown secret doors, with millions in options, but nothing’s changed for the commons,
Still wasting our thumbs on smartphones, no clue where the other ends of their leashes go,
Water’s all channelled into pipes and the hippos are in cages to cough in the night,
Generally they just want to be alone, alone, alone.
Woozy, rollicking indie rock that's thick and humid, searching vocals set against pealing guitars. Also available on cassette. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 22, 2016
