Consumer Revolt

You got a crack in your window I got a hole in my shadow Know what you like, like what you know Take your ball and go home Are what you eat, eat what you are Shit in a jar Bite the hand that feeds you Burn your bridges behind you What you need, man,

She must have opened me up And messed with something inside my skull Tell me now, what did you find Inside that desolate hole? Crouched with my head in my heads Shake to the sound of a car alarm I want it understood I'm trying to be good She's like a

It's a particular taste in the mouth Difficult to describe I checked the secretaries on the subway White pages with paper-punch eyes. And the black boys fresh out of prison Are saying it's easy on the inside, it's just tough on parole. Hey man, we do