We’ve been spending some of our lives living in this Street Sense paradise,
been spending most of our lives,
as we tried to survive.
One day says Jehovah Jog
thou will all owneth houses,
no saving the child, no sparing the rod,
all west coast fires doused.
Hundredth dollars donation for one issue,
no chaos at the workshops.
I cried, somebody give me a tissue.
Paradise is where it all stops.
