Look down next to your feet, boy

What do you see down there?

Glass glistening in the moonlight

Pick up that bottle and feel its weight in your hand

Feels good, now doesn't it?

Why don't you put that bottle where it belongs?

You know where that is?

Trash is the windows of a million tract houses

Trash is the windows of a million cop cars

Trash is the windows of a million tract houses

Trash is the windows of a million cop cars

Do you know what else you can do with that bottle?

You can recycle it

I'll show you how to do that

Or smash it over a skinhead's face

Well, all I see is a dead world

Covered up by building and streets

Well, all I see are dead people

Living in this dead world they made

Well, all I see are dead thoughts

Unable to understand anything except what they see

Oh, I'll open your eyes

Then I will shut you down

Trash is the windows of a million tract houses

Trash is the windows of a million cop cars

Trash is the windows of a million tract houses

Trash is the windows of a million cop cars

But that would not be nice, now would it, boy?

Put that bottle back down in the gutter

Think your thoughts of order, and go back home

Don't you know you'd almost become a free man

Free to do what you thought?

Don't you know you'd almost become a free man

Free to do what you thought was right

And beautiful?