Words and Music by Thomas R. Esch
What it seems to me and what it seems to you
Myth and machine sick cities unglued
Towers enthrall systems engage
It’s not a matter of how it’s a matter of wage
Who’s getting a job? Who’s getting a raise?
Labor is saved but nothing is gained
The powers at be never meant for me
Never meant for you to be free or true
Oh what are we to do?
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress
What it seems to me and what it seems to you
Myth and machine sick cities unglued
Towers enthrall systems engage
It’s not a matter of how it’s a matter of wage
Who’s getting a job? Who’s getting a raise?
Who’s reaping the fruit of everyone’s graves?
The powers at be never meant for me
Never meant for you to be free or true
Oh what are we to do?
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress, my beautiful, beautiful mess
Please don’t stress, my beautiful mess