Kevin Devine - The Burning City Smoking

Kevin Devine

The Burning City Smoking

40 million refugees with no place on this earth to call their home
One for every aimless graduate with nothing else to show for it but loans
And those of us who make a mark using someone else's blood
Our western stain won't wash away, won't vanish in the flood
It sets deeper with each hurricane and tidal wave and war
Oh whoa oh woh
We want everything we see and once it's gone we just want more

Atlas had those shoulders, we've got Ambien and Jamesons and blow
To bind us in a bubble, keep the newsprint nightmare distant and below
But when we wake in guillotines and pitch our screaming fits
When the Governor strikes up the band and gags our parted lips
When the worst case shows up dressed and dazzling ready for the ball
Oh whoa oh woh
Boy that bubble's bound to burst and what a tragic way to fall

The tabloids tell us hate the rat who strikes those subways closed and puts you out
Forget those 50-hour tunnel weeks inhaling steel dust poison through his mouth
Well if he don't deserve a pension that makes his family feel secure
If we're now so disconnected it's our relfections we ignore
And if our constant choice is skimming past the writing on the wall
Oh whoa oh woh
Then I'm sad to say we're lost and I'm embarrassed for us all

So most days I can't put to rest the burning city smoking in my mind
And I play pretend the principals are nothing more than actors running lines
And I stumble through a movie set where torture victims laugh
An abandoned journalist who juggled knives and daggered glass
While they entertain the marble Heads of State and CEO's
Oh whoa oh woh
I stagger past anarchist extras through saloon doors painted gold

So I turn and I see Uncle Sam all tied in wardrobe ready for the shoot
So I walk right up and talk to him, I tell him that I'm scared and I'm confused
While they test the cameras out and get the lighting right, while catering fills coffee cups and carves up apple pie
And while the stylists trim his beard and straighten those lapels
Oh whoa oh woh
I ask his thin eyes(?) what made him drive us straight to hell
and as my daydream ends he stands there shamed, a shocked and shattered shell

But there's never any answer for my sorry tongue to tell
Oh whoa oh woh oh oh
Cause the director's shouting action and from off set it's just as well

Mirror lyrics:

Cause the director's shouting action and from off set it's just as well
Oh whoa oh woh oh oh
But there's never any answer for my sorry tongue to tell

and as my daydream ends he stands there shamed, a shocked and shattered shell
I ask his thin eyes(?) what made him drive us straight to hell
Oh whoa oh woh
And while the stylists trim his beard and straighten those lapels
While they test the cameras out and get the lighting right, while catering fills coffee cups and carves up apple pie
So I walk right up and talk to him, I tell him that I'm scared and I'm confused
So I turn and I see Uncle Sam all tied in wardrobe ready for the shoot

I stagger past anarchist extras through saloon doors painted gold
Oh whoa oh woh
While they entertain the marble Heads of State and CEO's
An abandoned journalist who juggled knives and daggered glass
And I stumble through a movie set where torture victims laugh
And I play pretend the principals are nothing more than actors running lines
So most days I can't put to rest the burning city smoking in my mind

Then I'm sad to say we're lost and I'm embarrassed for us all
Oh whoa oh woh
And if our constant choice is skimming past the writing on the wall
If we're now so disconnected it's our relfections we ignore
Well if he don't deserve a pension that makes his family feel secure
Forget those 50-hour tunnel weeks inhaling steel dust poison through his mouth
The tabloids tell us hate the rat who strikes those subways closed and puts you out

Boy that bubble's bound to burst and what a tragic way to fall
Oh whoa oh woh
When the worst case shows up dressed and dazzling ready for the ball
When the Governor strikes up the band and gags our parted lips
But when we wake in guillotines and pitch our screaming fits
To bind us in a bubble, keep the newsprint nightmare distant and below
Atlas had those shoulders, we've got Ambien and Jamesons and blow

We want everything we see and once it's gone we just want more
Oh whoa oh woh
It sets deeper with each hurricane and tidal wave and war
Our western stain won't wash away, won't vanish in the flood
And those of us who make a mark using someone else's blood
One for every aimless graduate with nothing else to show for it but loans
40 million refugees with no place on this earth to call their home

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