Tragically Hip - The Rules

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Legs scream at bikes and bikes scream at trucks

And motorists curse their lousy luck

Crossing guard's not doing his job

And traffic's not about to stop for the first causality



Of though it's the rules, it's the rules



Super farmer's bent on the cover of Time

The moralist screams he's all mine

So the bard isn't doing her job the vacuum night

The darkest rites the small quarantined thoughts



It's the rules, it's the rules



Salesman says this vacuum's guaranteed it

Could suck an ancient virus from the sea

It could put the dog out of a job

Could make the traffic stop so little thoughts can safely get across



It's the rules, it's the rules

Guaranteed or not it's the rules



© LITTLE SMOKE MUSIC;















		
			



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