They say its murder on your folk careerto make a rock record with the disappearedwe ll let the police helicopterspull stereos out of the laketheres not an image that I must defend.There are no art forms nowjust capitalismso send the national guard to the mall of america and they can dress dead bodies up in tight designer jeansdieselpradait looks goodit looks goodit looks goodit looks goodahh it doesI m gonna lie downwith a common soundI m gonna bury my blues so its never foundI m gonna learn to pay attentionto the television setsand if my sadnessneeds a catalystI ll just uncover my eyes so much stimulus.And at the shopping epicenterI have a agoraphobic fitso buy a fountain sodaput some sugar on my tongueI ll wake up and write some songswith no soulwith no soulwith no soul

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