Through the blurry window, I stared aimlessly into concrete horizon soon as the car reached the highest point on the flyover. Hundreds of factories piled in every inch of free space they could get; day and night manufacturing the very fuel that keeps the corporativism's engine up and running. From each one of them arise a chimney, some more than others, spitting all sorts of filth into a sky that hadn't been blue for a quite long time. Unbelievable. Greenhouse effect, the melting of polar ice caps, acid rains, water shortage, temperatures above one hundred and twenty degrees; every imaginable consequence falling upon the earth and the closer I got, more the thunderous noise of industrial machinery stripped me from any hope of change.
Seems Friedman was right all along.
I turned up the volume and let music fill my ears and other thoughts ease my mind. Rested my eyes in hopes of a little moment of retrospection, and soon after I completely lost the track of time.
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
... Another suburban family morning
Grandmother screaming at the wall
We have to shout above the din of our Rice Crispies
We can't hear anything at all
Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration
But we know all her suicides are fake
Daddy only stares into the distance
There's only so much more that he can take
Many miles away
Something crawls from the slime
At the bottom of a dark Scottish lake
Another industrial ugly morning
The factory belches filth into the sky
He walks unhindered through the picket lines today
He doesn't think to wonder why
The secretaries pout and preen like
cheap tarts in a red light street
But all he ever thinks to do is watch
And every single meeting with his so-called superior
Is a humiliating kick in the crotch
Many miles away
Something crawls to the surface
Of a dark Scottish loch
Another working day has ended
Only the rush hour hell to face
Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes
Contestants in a suicidal race
Daddy grips the wheel and stares alone into the distance
