Reaching Quiet - You Choke [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

If you eat too much
Grow awake with a tummy ache

Hey man, the universe didn’t start at zero
Cause they didn’t know where to put it
So they had to invent negative numbers
Time is a number line
With Jesus at the zero
And two arrows with infinite ticks
Pointing left and right
I keep finding myself
In the same back left seat
In someone else's car
On another road trip to Chicago, New York
Or in an airplane watching thunderstorms
Over Detroit and the east-bound
Short night accelerated sunrise
Is it quicker to travel west
Since the way the world rotates?
Will California meet you halfway?
I’m sick of cigarette smoke in my hair
And the grease combed wig I wear at shows
I have no patience for sales tax or shitty neon signs
Death is an arrow and the tick-marks are parking meters
Don't feed your kids dead flesh from the floor

Your president is a hologram
With his manicured fingernails and a fresh haircut
Danny Glover is a hologram
With his barrel chest and beard
Brittney Spears is a hologram too...
With a boob-job and lipstick
People that believe in holograms
Eat Gorton’s fish sticks

It’s true, Virginia Slims pays Bea Arthur
Thirty thousand dollars a year
To smoke a pack a day
Target says, “Here we grow again”
As a positive statement
All these billboard signs
Directed at soccer moms
In maroon wagons on four lane highways
Outside of Chicago, Detroit, Minneapolis
Who’s allowing Blockbuster
To tear down housing projects
To have three stores in two blocks?
Why does the winning world
Assume that we’re all self-centered?

There is no room
For Rococo decadence
In this new world
Awaiting the nuke bomb
Mad Max make-over
The half-mast flag at the park
Shows proof of mourning
On a dry blue sky
Memorial day Monday. 75, sunny

...Died pulling a fifty foot flag
Bit by bit from his fist
Like a cheap magic trick
While standing in a bed of black-eyed-susans
And wearing a store-bought blindfold

He’d be the first to tell you
That if you get hit by a car hard
Or stand too close to where a bomb drops
In a city park bed of black-eyed-susans
It might just literally knock your socks off
And he’d hope that the flag’s half-mastedness
Wouldn’t spoil your beautiful September
Afternoon cut grass sidewalk life
Not even a bit
Don’t swallow the knife
No need to say shit
Keep flying that kite