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The Postal Service Miscellaneous This Place is a Prison This place is a prison, and these people aren't your friends. Inhaling thrills through twenty dollar bills, and the tumblers are drained and then flooded again and again. There's guards at the on-ramps, armed to the teeth. And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound, but you are not permitted to leave. I know there's a big world out there like the one that I saw on the screen in my living room late last night it was almost too bright to see. I know that it's not a party if it happens every night. Pretending there's glamour and candleabra when you're drinking by candlelight. What does it take to get a drink in this place? What does it take? How long must I wait? |
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