legs scream at bikes and bikes scream at trucks
and motorists curse their lousy luck
crossing guard's not doing his job
and traffic's not about to stop for the first casuality of thought
it's the rules it's the rules
superfarmer's bent on the cover of time
the moralist screams he's all mine
so the bard isn't doing her job
the vacuum night
the darkest rites
the small quarantined thoughts
it's the rules it's the rules
salesman says this vacuum's guaranteed
it could s** an ancient virus from the sea
it could put the dog out of a job
could make the traffic stop so little thoughs can safely get across
it's the rules it's the rules
guaranteed or not it's the rules