EIGHTEEN PEOPLE LIVE IN HARMONY

The opera is over, singers have all gone home,
Seats are empty, the kitchen is closed,
The sidewalks are sprayed down,
The blinds are pulled down, foundations unstable,
The wrecking ballÕs back,

Quiet business Ð vacancy, quiet business Ð vacancy.
Rents are rising, our lease is up, culture is down.

The symphonyÕs concluded,
The instruments are all cased up,
The notes are silent, musicÕs still apparent.

Rents are rising, our lease is up,
Culture is down, spirits are jaded,

Art is dying, is art dead?
Art is dying, is art dead?
Believe it, we need to move on.

A one track mind in a one way time,
LetÕs go ahead and gentrify,
We let art die with robot minds,
They steal the brush and paint boundary lines.
A stale kind of people weÕll find,
Walking in single file line,
I think itÕs time we finally rewind,
LetÕs go ahead, we might as wellÉ

Rents are rising, our lease is up,
Culture is down, spirits are jadedÉ