stuck - playpen of dissent lyrics
in my playpen of dissent
i get to yell and play pretend
with soft corners and loud colors
yanked out, playtime is over
fists balled up and tears hot
i hate you, i hate you, i hate you
do i mean that? when i say it?
is that for anyone but me?
if i say it’s subversive
does that make it subversive?
in my playpen of dissent
records pressed, and message sent
broadcast the news, the take is left
out on the platter
you keep on crying, but nothing changes
no one could ever possibly understand
a squealing piglet all by their lonesome
can’t band together to make demands
art is important, but it won’t solve our problems
art makes me feel good, but it won’t solve my problems
i have to talk to my neighbors
i have to talk to my coworkers
i have to talk to my neighbors
i have to talk to my coworkers
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