White picket fences. Barbed wire and trenches
Trick or treat. Merry Christmas. Howdy neighbor. Thank you Jesus
What is he building in that painted lady?
A participation trophy wife or blonde, blue-eyed baby?
Wide-eyed and wired. The snap-crackle-pop of the Geiger
Camouflage billboards for lead-lined Brooks Brothers. You elbow the jukebox and sing “Duck and Cover,”
And breed out our incisors, feed on white wine and Pfizer
It don’t look like survival, b-but buy now or die

Suburbia. You’re not alone. The lights are on. But no one’s home. So, welcome home

Meyers-Briggs, OK-ULTRA, takes a village to fake a whole culture
Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball, your head in the gutter, your brains on the well
Home is where the heart is. You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless
It’s the safest on the market, but you still gotta watch where you park it
So give me your half-life crisis. I can tell you know where paradise is
Where parasites don’t care what your blood type is. Only pheromones and serotonin decide
If its true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard
Everyone knows that nobody’s knows that everybody’s all up in my everybody’s all up in my everybody’s all up in my business

Suburbia. Where you belong. The lights are on. But no one’s home. So, welcome home

Ch-ch-chameleon peacocks are talk of the town. Well word gets around on hit number stations. He cums radiation
The dog bites the postman while basement eyes dream. Of a night at the drive-in with an AR-15

I dropped my eyeballs on the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails
Then I caught Kuru from your sister and died laughing in jail
Smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on the 4th of July grill
Smile and wave, boys. Kiss the cook. Live laugh and love. Please pass the pills