Sons & Daughters of the Gilded Age

Between the plastic surgery and credit card receipts
 Child goes to bed at night without a bite to eat
 A prince denies a shilling to a beggar in the street
 God slits his tires to his presidential suite
 As we celebrate celebrity and all the joy it brings
 We endure the over privilege just for having fancy things
 Worship at the alter of our plasma TV screens
 But inside of the pages of our fashion magazines
 We're singing on
 Na-na-na-na
 And our fashion magazines
 Future civilizations study people of today
 Excavate our ruins and examine our remains
 Catalog our plastic parts and put them on display
 Put em' some mystery museum out in space
 Like a vessel on the ocean being swallowed by the waves
 A dozen life preservers, and a thousand lives to save
 Give them to the highest bidder, tell the other to be brave
 As they sink down to the bottom to their deep and lonely graves
 They're singin' on, na-na-na-na
 To their deep and lonely graves
 Sing a merry melody like sparrows in a gilded cage
 Sing a joyful chorus sons and daughters of the gilded age
 Chapel bell is ringing and the storm is growing near
 Preacher's at the pope and lays the opium with fear
 Devil's in the parlor with a grin, from ear to ear
 The economy is crumbling like a castle made of sand
 Daddy's at the office with a shotgun in his hand
 Moma's at the shop, and Paul she's working on her tan
 And I'll be at the corner tavern and I'll be singing with the band
 And I'm singing on, na-na-na-na
 And all the homeless people are singing on, na-na-na-na
 And all the fashion models are singing on, na-na-na-na
 And I'm singing with the band