Burnpiles, Swimming Holes

We've got satellites. We've got a new Tower of Babel.
We eat machines, and we wear labels.
Get off the fucking Internet, and cut off the cable.
The mind is static, but the body's still able.

Burnpiles.
Swimming holes.

It's quitting time—time to whoop and holler—
Can't hardly make a dime without spending a dollar.
If you're sick of trying, then come on and follow.
We're going to wash ourselves in fire and water.

Burnpiles.
Swimming holes.

If I was driving nails for Mammon, I'll tell you what I'd do:
I'd cast my hammer in the old burnpile, and I'd go swimming, too.

Burnpiles,
Swimming holes.