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