Compressed Black Carbon & A Digital Divide

Compressed unemployed black carbon in the margins
Bubblegum on TV
Thus is the part of an art at the start of the 21st century
Lofty ideas nobody can afford
Four walls and a light to read
There’s still one place where a man can save face
And dream ‘til he damn well please

That train is coming
It roams from town to town
If you don’t mind the danger
Of sleeping with a stranger
You can be on top of one now

Satellites blink above a skyline
Sink into a highway you can’t even see
Why not just decide there’s a man in the sky
Who’s contrived how it’s got to be
With an invisible army of soldier sitting
Ear whisperers to set you free
Sounds like the making of a case
For some other place that you would rather be

That train is coming
It roams from town to town
If you don’t like the rhythm
Of just taking what you’re given
You could be on top of one now

Compressed unemployed black carbon in the margins
Bubblegum on TV