[00:03.596]John A. Hobson was a good man
[00:07.096]He used to loan me books and mic stands
[00:10.349]He even got me a subscription
[00:13.353]To the Socialist Review
[00:17.347]Listening to records in his basement
[00:20.588]Old folk songs about the government
[00:24.097]"It's love of money, not the market"
[00:26.847]He said, "these ****ers push on you"
[00:30.095]"And freedom yells, it don't cry
[00:33.102]Whatever sells will decide
[00:36.592]But there's no hell when you die
[00:39.847]So don't look so worried"
[00:45.096]He got a night life, lost his day job
[00:48.091]Pushing papers, swinging pendulums
[00:51.586]Anything to serve a function
[00:54.600]Or to occupy some time
[00:58.591]You gotta earn this living somehow
[01:01.837]You're good as dead without a bank account
[01:05.356]But it's funny how alive he felt down
[01:08.096]In that unemployment line
[01:11.100]With all that trash at his feet
[01:14.344]The pools of piss in the street
[01:17.853]All of that filthy empathy
[01:20.845]For the way we're feeling
[01:22.095]
[01:53.595]The billboards shade
[01:55.346]The flags they wave
[01:57.090]The anthem was playing loud
[02:00.340]The baseball game was letting out
[02:07.346]And all at once
[02:08.840]He saw the dust
[02:10.590]And heard every tiny sound
[02:13.842]Got in his truck and turned around
[02:19.592]Drove out through the crowd and the cops
[02:22.837]Drove out past that center mall
[02:26.343]Drove out past that sickening sprawl
[02:29.840]Out past that fenced in gold
[02:33.092]And maybe he lost control
[02:36.591]****ing with the radio
[02:40.093]But I bet the stars seemed so close
[02:43.845]At the end
[02:47.342]At the end
[02:50.589]At the end