All the Punks are Domesticated - Ron Gallo

All of the punks are domesticated

All of the freaks have gone to bed

All of the pioneers are saved for

Information tech

Or wrinkled and dead

They’re dead

Now every room is sterilized

All risk is paralyzed

Meanwhile, the pop tarts climb the pop charts

The blood clots block your heart parts

And no one really has anything to say

All of the rockstars are behind the bar

Serving computers with acoustic guitars

It’s a travesty

Rock and roll matinee

Songs about sunny days

Or love in a pretty way

All of our expression is uniform

All of our food is mostly chloroform

It’s not even a secret

It’s easily accessible

Just like anything on the planet

And no one really minds

It’s just a sign of the times

To numb your dime a dozen mind

In a world that gave everyone a voice

We have no other choice

We’re all so important

Tell me about yourself

Tell me about yourself

Tell me about yourself

I will be forgotten in two generations

What will have been my big mark?

A couple little tears dangling in the dark

An impressive collection of digital remarks

An apple falls at the park

Where your body lay

Deep within the clay

It’s just another day

Where all of the punks are domesticated, all the freaks have gone to bed