Sons & Daughters of the Gilded Age

Between the plastic surgery and credit card receipts Child goes to bed at night without a bite to eat A prince denies a shilling to a beggar in the street God slits his tires to his presidential suite As we celebrate celebrity and all the joy it brings We endure the over privilege just for having fancy things Worship at the alter of our plasma TV screens But inside of the pages of our fashion magazines We're singing on Na-na-na-na And our fashion magazines Future civilizations study people of today Excavate our ruins and examine our remains Catalog our plastic parts and put them on display Put em' some mystery museum out in space Like a vessel on the ocean being swallowed by the waves A dozen life preservers, and a thousand lives to save Give them to the highest bidder, tell the other to be brave As they sink down to the bottom to their deep and lonely graves They're singin' on, na-na-na-na To their deep and lonely graves Sing a merry melody like sparrows in a gilded cage Sing a joyful chorus sons and daughters of the gilded age Chapel bell is ringing and the storm is growing near Preacher's at the pope and lays the opium with fear Devil's in the parlor with a grin, from ear to ear The economy is crumbling like a castle made of sand Daddy's at the office with a shotgun in his hand Moma's at the shop, and Paul she's working on her tan And I'll be at the corner tavern and I'll be singing with the band And I'm singing on, na-na-na-na And all the homeless people are singing on, na-na-na-na And all the fashion models are singing on, na-na-na-na And I'm singing with the band