DESCRIPTION:
Peter Oren plays CAFO. For more music visit www.peteroren.com.


This white picket cage feels like a CAFO Without so much smell It's rigor mortgage and what's more is My house is just a one of these cancer cells

No, the skyline is not benign; I'm making remission my mission But how could I hope that our growth could slowly abate I'm loosing ties with their noosed neckties Not drying ink on too many dotted lines

If I'm holding a golden ticket Do I use it burn it or let it slip away? Their avenues I can't leave or lose Asphalt atop cobblestone is a power play

With the people like soy beans When factory farms constitute our means Fit into rows in flat fields Drug 'em right and watch 'em yield

See everybody's got their own phone in their cars all alone Seems aircraft aren't quite the only drones At the pump and at the polls We're shackled and chained to the spectacle

If I'm holding a golden ticket Do I use it burn it or let it slip away? Their avenues I can't leave or lose The buzz in this hive leaves no room for debate

So then, is it our fate to conflate freedom with credit cards To live life in boxes with manicured yards I guess in the end we are just living things With sleeves getting caught in our own machines

But if for me it could be between writing lines and singing songs Or selling wage-slave labor all week long I guess I'm going to spit fire at the state If'n I can get away with it up on stage

If I'm holding a golden ticket Do I use it burn it or let it slip away? Their avenues I can't leave or lose I'd live as a hermit, but then how would I get laid?