Trauma

What makes a girl start a fire in the hall Leave a lipstick scrawl on the bathroom mirror? She won't settle for a pile of scrap metal While you work the gas pedal at another man's steer She takes her time as authorities arrive Going out for a smoke in the empty back lot She sees the world she imagined as a girl As a lottery ticket for a phony jackpot Years roll on and we still have not dealt with our trauma Years roll on and we still have not looked at our sin What makes a man take a hammer in his hand Shatter every last window of the company store At 3 a.m. with the furies back again? Now it's him against them in a personal war The mind snaps and economies collapse When the one who works hardest gets the smallest reward The big scam is nobody gives a damn That the penthouse suite depends on the bottom three floors And I know how hard you've been working We all know somebody who's been killed We hold power, though it's only for the hour Let the ivory tower know the power we wield They know we got 'em and empire's in its autumn When it's built from the bottom and the bottom won't build Years roll on and they still have not dealt with our trauma Years roll on and they still have not looked at their sin