Songtext Not so soft von Ani Difranco

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Like i said

1993

Not so soft

In a forest of stone
Underneath the corporate canopy
Where the sun rarely filters down
The ground is not so soft
Not so soft

They build buildings to house people
Making money
Or they build buildings to make money
Off of housing people
It's true
Like a lot of things are true
I am foraging for a phone booth on the forest floor
That is not so soft
I look up
It looks like the buildings are burning
But it's just the sun setting
The solar system calling an end to another business day
Eternally circling signally
The rythmic clicking on and off of computers
The pulse of the American machine
The pulse that draws death dancing
Out of anonymous side streets
You know
The ones that always get dumped on and never get plowed
It draws death dancing
Out of little countries
With funny languages
Where the ground is getting harder
And it was not that soft before

Those who call the shots are never in the line of fire
Why
Where there's life for hire out there
If a flag of truth were raised
We could watch every liar rise to wave it
Here we learn America like a script
Playwright
Birthright
Same thing
We bring ourselves to the role
We're all rehearsing for the presidency
I always wanted to be commander in chief of my one woman army

But I can envision the mediocrity of my finest hour
It's the failed America in me
It's the fear that lives in a forest of stone
Underneath the corporate canopy
Where the sun rarely filters down
And the ground is not so soft

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In a forest of stone 
Underneath the corporate canopy 
Where the sun rarely filters down 
The ground is not so soft 
Not so soft

They build buildings to house people 
Making money 
Or they build buildings to make money 
Off of housing people 
It's true 
Like a lot of things are true 
I am foraging for a phone booth on the forest floor 
That is not so soft 
I look up 
It looks like the buildings are burning 
But it's just the sun setting 
The solar system calling an end to another business day 
Eternally circling signally 
The rythmic clicking on and off of computers 
The pulse of the American machine 
The pulse that draws death dancing 
Out of anonymous side streets 
You know 
The ones that always get dumped on and never get plowed 
It draws death dancing 
Out of little countries 
With funny languages 
Where the ground is getting harder 
And it was not that soft before

Those who call the shots are never in the line of fire 
Why 
Where there's life for hire out there 
If a flag of truth were raised 
We could watch every liar rise to wave it 
Here we learn America like a script 
Playwright 
Birthright 
Same thing 
We bring ourselves to the role 
We're all rehearsing for the presidency 
I always wanted to be commander in chief of my one woman army

But I can envision the mediocrity of my finest hour 
It's the failed America in me 
It's the fear that lives in a forest of stone 
Underneath the corporate canopy 
Where the sun rarely filters down 
And the ground is not so soft