The Burning City Smoking

It's kind of obvious that this song is about how Kevin is disappointed with the way that the world has turned out. With the state of America.

The last verse is my absolute favorite. Hands down, the best song on the CD. Kevin always uses alliteration really, really well.

Oh. My. How I love this song. It reflects all the worries of today, and then goes on and talks about the wish of everything being better. In the last verse it seems like he opens Uncle Sam's eyes to all the problems in the world.

"Our western stain won't wash away, it won't vanish in the flood, It seeps deeper through each hurricane and tidal wave and war" and "To bind us in a bubble and keep the newsprint nightmare distant and remote"

sorta makes me think of global warming. and the title, in a way, suggests that as well

"And while the stylists trim his beard and straighten those lapels"

it is just amazing how talented he is in all areas of music- he is a lyricist and also makes catchy, innovative sounds to create amazing songs. he is also a performer, and has a sense of humor. could he get any better?

at the beginning of my version, he says "this songs about, uh, acts of god and governments, and uh, you know being afraid of.. uh, irresponsibile, bad leadership and shitty journalists, and uh,.. well it goes like this.."

then he begins to play. so there's your answer, haha.

beautiful song. i'm in love.:P

by far my favourite kevdev song.

"and those of us who make our mark use someone elses blood."

These lyrics are generally inaccurate -- but I'm not sure of what the right words. Any guesses? I'll post the whole thing as accurate as possible, throwing "**" to open/close questionable parts:

40 million refugees with no place on this earth to call their home One for every aimless graduate with nothing else to show for it but loans And those of us who make our mark using someone else's blood Our western stain won't wash away, won't vanish in the flood It's just deeper with each hurricane and tidal wave and war Oh whoa We want everything we see and once it's gone we just want more

Atlas had those shoulders, we've got Ambien and Jamesons and blow To bind us in a bubble, keep the newsprint nightmare distant and remote But when we wake in guillotines and pitch our screaming fits When the Governor strikes up the band and gags our parted lips When the worst case shows up dressed and dazzling ready for the ball Oh whoa Boy that bubble's bound to burst and what a tragic way to fall

The tabloids tell us hate the rat who strikes those subways closed and puts you out Forget those 50 hour tunnel weeks inhaling steel dust poison through his mouth Well if he don't deserve a pension that makes his family feel secure If we're now so disconnected it's our reflections we ignore And if our constant choice is skimming past the writing on the wall Oh whoa Then I'm sad to say we're lost and I'm embarrassed for us all

So most days I can't put to rest the burning city smoking in my mind And I play pretend the principals are nothing more than actors running lines And I stumble through a movie set where torture victims laugh: An abandoned journalist who juggled knives and daggered glass While they entertain a mob of Heads of State and CEO's Oh whoa I stagger past anarchist extras through saloon doors painted gold

So I turn and I see Uncle Sam, walks out of wardrobe ready for the shoot So I walk right up and talk to him, I tell him that I'm scared and I'm confused While they test the cameras out and get the lighting right, while catering fills coffee cups and carves up apple pie And while the stylists trim his beard and straighten those lapels Oh whoa I ask NO IDEA? him drive us straight to hell and as my daydream ends he stands there shamed, a shocked and shattered shell

But there's never any answer for my starving tongue to tell Oh whoa Cause the director's shouting action and from off set it's just as well

Forty million refugees with no place on this earth to call their home One for every aimless graduate with nothing else to show for it but loans And those of us who make our mark use someone else’s blood Our Western stain won’t wash away, it won’t vanish in the flood It sets deeper through each hurricane and tidal wave and war: We want everything we see, and once it’s gone we just want more.

Atlas had those shoulders; we’ve got Ambien and Jameson’s and blow To bind us in a bubble and keep the newsprint nightmare distant and remote But when we wake in guillotines and pitch our screaming fits When the governor strikes up the band and gags our parting lips When the worst case shows up dressed and dazzling, ready for the ball, Boy, that bubble’s bound to burst, and what a tragic way to fall.

The tabloids tell us, ‘Hate the rat who strikes the subways closed and puts you out. Forget those 50 hour tunnel weeks inhaling steel dust poison through his mouth.’ Well, if he don’t deserve a pension that makes his family feel secure If we’re now so disconnected it’s our reflections we ignore And if our constant choice is skimming past the writing on the wall Than I’m sad to say we’re lost and I’m embarrassed for us all.

Most days I can’t put to rest the burning city smoking in my mind So I play pretend the principals are nothing more than actors running lines And I stumble through a movie set where torture victims laugh At embedded journalists who juggle knives and dagger glass While they entertain a mob of heads of state and CEOs I stagger past anarchist extras through saloon doors painted gold

I turn and I see Uncle Sam waltz out of wardrobe, ready for the shoot So I walk right up and talk to him. I tell him that I’m scared and I’m confused. And while they test the cameras out and get the lighting right While catering fills coffee cups and carves up apple pie And while the stylists trim his beard and straighten his lapels I ask his empire eyes what made him drive us straight to hell. As my daydream ends he stands ashamed, a shocked & shattered shell But there’s never any answer for my starving tongue to tell The director’s shouting ‘action!’ I’m thrown off set. It’s just as well.