Lyrics

Bricks are dirty, lakes are dead The family dog is mad Baby brother's science beakers are all broken Now the yard peacocks are all sad Board games are boring May they rot on the shelf Big brother's at Columbia University Quote unquote he's tanning beaver pelts Subtle as a billboard And oh-so-refined Smoking through my chimney Burning up this life of mine Free of hope, free of the past Thank you God of nothing I'm free at last Free of hope, free of the past Thank you God of nothing I'm free at last I'm free at last I'm free Free at last A chip on the shoulder usually means There's wood up above But no man at this shiny oblong table Is very, very fibrous Picnic demographics I'm scorched and cornfed Leaning on the banister I know it's just another 20, 20 years of sweat Making up his milkdud mind Gnawing on a Charleston Chew Ooh, look inside his hothouse eyes See his budding youth Free of hope, free of the past Thank you God of nothing I'm free at last Free of hope, free of the past Thank you God of nothing I'm free at last I'm free at last I'm free Free at last