Gerald Lee Palmer
Raises his daughter
In a house in the suburbs
He spent half of his life
Makin' auto parts

He dealt with the lay-offs
And got an IT job
And raised his kids like statistics
Now every so often
He thinks of his daughter

She wakes up,
Still consumed by his silence
And he wonders why
She don't call him

She gets by,
Goes through with her life
She occasionally thinks about
How it's his fault
That she's fallen

Belly up, belly up
Belly up, belly up
She's fallen, belly up
Belly up, belly up
She's fallen

So we are all lonely
We are all 'if only's
We are all porcelain dolls on display
We are all products of
Hard-workin' Americans

But we're roadblocks to efficiency
We are the inaccuracies
We are the victims of a culture that
Defines happiness in economics

And we wake up
Unfulfilled by the silence of
A million clueless fuckin' patriarchs

Like Gerald Lee Palmer
Who misses his daughter,
But he never even talked to her
And it's his own fault now that he's fallin'

Belly up, belly up
Belly up, belly up
He's fallin' belly up
Belly up, belly up
He's fallin'

Lyrics submitted by concreteblues

Gerald Lee Palmer song meanings
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    General Commentis this song available for download anywhere? if anyone has it you can email it to me at and maybe i can trade you a song for it or something. stab yer dad too. the only times i get to hear them are when i see him play and i would like to get to hear them more often.
    goddamnon July 04, 2009   Link

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