Luyện nghe bài hát The Edge Of Town

The cul-de-sac jungle is a place
a living rotting failure from a different age
And if looking for the place that dreams go to die
It's not in the city, it's around the

You can your future for sub-leached purity
And the sterility in exchange for security
But no matter how many times you run from your
The problems always re-appear

Day after day, it's all just
And the land just gets further away
On these dead lawns lie your father's
White flight, blight, white screams

On these dead lawns, lie your mother's
Rum, Romanism And Tammany idealism is fucking
Laughed off the at countless conventions
Laissez-faire is en vogue

It's silver has been heaven sent
One man, one vote, throw it
One land, one hope, it away

When every candidate the same
Born of blood
So don't talk to me about
Our tradition of
Who the fuck am I to believe in?