New Mexico Song

As he lights an American Spirit
He asks how I can smoke such shit
I say there's nothing like chain-smoking GPC cigarettes
'Cause any smokes will kill ya'
But these will make you feel like it

I sit back down on the parking lot curb
And remember back to February
The trip to Hartford
When five minutes ago he was passed out on the staircase
Trying to walk to his apartment but not making it all the way
And now he's driving us one hundred miles an hour down the interstate
Another beer in his hand
Swearing we won't be late

But that was before everyone moved to New Mexico
They all left a couple of months ago
Until the day my friend
When I sleep on the floor of your van again
I'll be waiting in this parking lot

And in my dreams
I am dirty broke, beautiful and free
My hands clenched in a fist and my face in a smile
After hitching too many miles

We aren't revolutionaries
But we are the revolution
And sometimes I think that the whole movement is just me and you
And that maybe we'd all be better off if that were true
'Cause then at least we'd know where we stand
And we could tell our comrades apart from the men
But if the world isn't that simple
Maybe this town is at least
And if I'm not marching with them for war
I'm sure not marching with you for peace

Class traitor? What fucking ever
I'm just another middle class kid too
But if I'm not good at changing
I'm good at self loathing
So I'll class hate myself with you

May our only occupation be not having a job
And may the only cocktails we make be Molotov
May that day be now
And for as many days after that as we know how
It starts in this parking lot

And in my dreams
I am dirty broke, beautiful and free
My hands clenched in a fist and my face in a smile
After hitching too many miles