Cynical Bastards

Now, I don't disagree --

It's a hell of a scene.

Jackson Square dropouts:

Avoid the police.

If the '80s were tough,

The '90s were mean.

All that was left for the desperate

Were these fax cash machines.

And that easy money

Never has anything.

With that kind of juice, man,

It ain't worth the squeeze.

But month by month,

I feel a change in the breeze,

So stop moving on;

Make your own history.

Now, if you want me to boil it down,

All you cynical bastards,

Get out of town.

Now, if you want me to boil it down,

All you cynical bastards,

Move a little faster.

But some people can't shake

The weight of the past.

Some people's hearts

Remain at half-mast.

It's downtown

Where it all intersects.

Some came from the mountain;

College kids from the west.

Not every suit lies

Right through the teeth,

As good and as bad

And as some between.

As I wait for the bus

Coming from the east,

The generations are proud

And your elbow grease.

I understand

If it's all a bit much.

It's a bit of a circus;

It's a little bit rough.

I heard this place

Was run by the mob,

Buying everyone off

Down at city hall.

And those Oakville moms,

They stick up their nose.

Those Burlington dads

Keep their dollars at home.

If you're the kind with nothing to say,

You heard about this party,

But you're praying for rain.

Move a little faster.