Lyrics:

Tapes at the Gate

The grocery store shelves are completely empty
They’re only selling spiders in their webs
Be sure to take a few when your cart hits the aisle
Suspicious man with a shirt and vest on
Wonders why he’s not getting electronic credits
For his purchases he made in 1985
When the world that he’s in spun in the opposite direction
And the numbers on the sign split off into pieces
And he had to follow each one to see where it led
And the caravans carried only the cargo of the young
Who’d aged out of retirement and into subjection

He’s checking all the videotapes at the door for their sizes
Scanning them to make sure they’re alright
Oh that’s a nice one he advises

The inquisition master got off at 3:45
He fires the flame out the window,
Not caring how many wildfires he starts
He gets mauled by Smoky who’s carrying the tires
To a motor that has no engine
Because it’s being shipped from a country whose railroad
Was partitioned off by a mob of greedy waiters
Who split their tips with a cook at the raw fruit
Restaurant that ran the butchers out of town
And commondered their knives because of the strawberries
That like to pop and burst into people’s eyes

He’s checking all the videotapes at the door for their sizes
Scanning them to make sure they’re alright
Oh that’s a nice one he advises

A feeling of anger rose on the collective chests
The raiders all felt it in the bottom of the well
That they dug to impress the girls who hung at the back
Of the shop where they sold garbage packaged as granola
In order to trick those wearing fairy wings into buying
Because a sinner’s dime is equal to the righteous
Who tend to hoard the belongings under their mattress
So when the ringleader comes in they notice the cover
Which is painted in brown and speckled with glitter
That flakes off and burns the ears of the helpless
They’re with their palms out but it’s not from begging
They just got a cool tattoo and it’s stinging harshly

He’s checking all the videotapes at the door for their sizes
Scanning them to make sure they’re alright
Oh that’s a nice one he advises

One is a fake and another is broken
If you insert the coin it will be immobile
The machine blinks fiercely and you may think it’s broken
But the money is parted into a billion little pieces
Absent from the remains of those who copied
The man with the carpet shouts as to why you can’t
Bury the rest until you’ve found the replacement
His voice’s cadence disturbs even the initiated
Who wonder if he had been incompetently misplaced
While the elected official shines lights in his eyes
To see if there is anything left in there but static

He’s checking all the videotapes at the door for their sizes
Scanning them to make sure they’re alright
Oh that’s a nice one he advises