[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

John A. Hobson was a good man
He used to loan me books and mic stands
He even got me a subscription
To the Socialist Review
Listening to records in his basement
Old folk songs about the government
"It's love of money, not the market"
He said, "these ****ers push on you"
"And freedom yells, it don't cry
Whatever sells will decide
But there's no hell when you die
So don't look so worried"
He got a night life, lost his day job
Pushing papers, swinging pendulums
Anything to serve a function
Or to occupy some time
You gotta earn this living somehow
You're good as dead without a bank account
But it's funny how alive he felt down
In that unemployment line
With all that trash at his feet
The pools of piss in the street
All of that filthy empathy
For the way we're feeling
The billboards shade
The flags they wave
The anthem was playing loud
The baseball game was letting out
And all at once
He saw the dust
And heard every tiny sound
Got in his truck and turned around
Drove out through the crowd and the cops
Drove out past that center mall
Drove out past that sickening sprawl
Out past that fenced in gold
And maybe he lost control
****ing with the radio
But I bet the stars seemed so close
At the end
At the end
At the end