Busdriver - Sun Showers

Me and you in love with our
Rule over solid waste
Our artistic merit is questionable
We'll fall on our face
And I can't bare the sight
Not to sound pragmatic
But our parents were right
This ain't adequate
But you can always seek refuge under...

Sunshowers
There's a place for you and a place for me under...
Sunshowers
Return to the burgeoisie while I sift through debris

You view the poverty line as a threshold
For truth in pricey slums
This ain't art school, it's a shark pool
Of well-groomed yuppie scum
And they got orders to kill
Watch them fashion your cell
How'd they get a recording deal
When they're wack as hell
But the chicken-scratch in your sketchbook
It mirrors what you loath

Sunshowers
There's a place for you and a place for me under...
Sunshowers
Sunshowers
There's a place for you and a place for me under...
Sunshowers

They got easels to stain, and uh
People to blame, with their
Egos inflamed, and their
Neat codenames
I saw your sub-genre in a passing glance
It was you and your DJ in matching pants

Sleeping pills and record sleeves
Defaced museum pieces
Concert-goers flailing arms
Taxidermy for the nouveau riche

I don't need this
I don't need this...

Sunshowers
There's a place for you and a place for me under...
Sunshowers
Sunshowers
I don't need this, I don't need this
Sunshowers

.

Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967).  Counter-Attack and Other Poems.  1918.

Suicide In The Trenches

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,	5
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.     .    .    .    .
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,	10
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

The Strokes - Heart In A Cage