Player Pianos

Hidden in the pavement
There’s a faded hopscotch game
I put my feet inside the squares
And salute the USA
Let me be forgotten
Let nobody know my name
Let the time and rain and planet
Take the letters from my grave

Let’s get married when we’re twenty
I’m sure our parents will help out
They’ll buy us gifts and groceries
They’ll pump blood into our bank accounts
They’ll pay for our first vacations
They’ll put us up into nice resorts
They’ll pay for our first two children
They’ll pay for our first divorce

Who needs Gould when there’s player pianos?
Who needs Ramsey when there’s microwaves?
Who needs Christ when you’ve got machine guns?
Who needs medicine when you’ve got AIDS?
Who needs Alexandria?
I think we can do without
We’ll fill the place with gasoline
And flick a match on our way out