Self Destructive Zones - Drive-By Truckers

It was 1990, give or take, I don’t remember

When the news of revolution hit the air

The girls hadn’t even started taking down our posters

When the boys started cutting off their hair

The radio stations all decided angst was finally old enough

It ought to have a proper home

Dead, fat, or rich, nobody’s left to bitch

About the goings-on in self-destructive zones

The night the practice room caught fire

There were rumors of a dragon headed straight for Muscle Shoals

«Stoner tries to save an amplifier»

And it’s like the dragon’s side of the story’s never told

When the dream and the man and the girls hang around

Long enough to make you think it’s coming true

It’s easier to let it all die a fairytale

Than admit that somethin' bigger’s passing through

The hippies rode a wave puttin' smiles on faces

That the devil wouldn’t even put a shoe

Caught between a generation dying from its habits

And another thinking rock-and-roll was new

'Til the pawn shops were packed like a backstage party

Hanging full of pointy ugly cheap guitars

And the young’uns all turned to karaoke

Hanging all their wishes upon disregarded stars

My grandaddy’s shotgun’s locked in a closet

And it never shot a thing that could’ve lived

And old man decided that you couldn’t choose your poison

'Til you’re nearly old enough to vote for him

They turned what was into something so disgusting

Even wild dogs would disregard the bones

Dead, fat, or rich, nobody’s left to bitch

About the goings-on in self-destructive zones