Rich/Poor - Trampled By Turtles

You keep your ear so close to the ground

Well your prophet speaks and there’s no one around

And it’s a grand old time for broken glass

And it’s all we ever need

You dig them holes and never find a dime

You can’t pretend it’s not a waste of time

And the payphones ring 'til you burn 'em down

It’s my kind of town

La la la, la la la, la la la

La la la, la la la, la la la

(La la la, la la la, la la la)

You lie before the change of pace

When you’re set dead last in a wasted race

And it’s the cold hard facts that’ll bring me to tears

That’s the way it goes

La la la, la la la, la la la

La la la, la la la, la la la

(La la la, la la la, la la la)