Dead presidents march out the door
In times of peace and times of war
It's never less, it's always more
You'll miss it if you blink
Collectors' cups collect their dust
In honor of this boom of bust
No one to blame, no one to trust
And nothing left to drink

Freedom ain't free when it comes for a price
And my bargaining chip is a roll of the dice
Paradise don't live here anymore

If last year I'd the guts to be
Forever only twenty-three
Would I have been allowed to see
Myself at twenty-four
The ghost that haunts the shopping malls
As penance for long-distance calls
And endless ATM withdrawals
Shoplifting evermore

I could save up for better days
By making these days worse
So blame it on my lazy ways
Or blame it on a curse