The Stick Lyrics - Brutalist Bricks - Ted Leo & The Pharmacists

Anxious mofo, my twin, my friend 

Election time again, I wish that I was dead 

Some conversation, if you're well read 

To calm the storm of shit that's raging in my head 

While languishing in basements 

Ten million corpses lashed to beds 

Atrophied to archetypes 

By all the able artists overhead 

Mixed light of evening, sky of the sea 

You take the Old North Road 

'Cause that's where you feel free 

Your hidden back roads 

Your hidden dreams 

A hidden cigarette 

That actually helps you breathe 

Play an ancient mix tape 

Attempt a break from the routine 

But dark on the horizon 

Form that's never fully come to being 

Still need a reason for your unease 

You think the government, it wants you on your knees 

But I'll tell you something and here it is 

They want you driving to the supermarket 

Buying milk and cheese 

Generating taxes 

To fuel their corn subsidies 

You're either nibbling at the carrot 

Or you get beat with the fasces