I can't think of anything right now, but these lyrics by the prophetic Roger Waters:
The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
There is no dark side of the moon, really. Matter of fact, it's all dark.
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Maybe the "paper" they were singing about was this kind of paper...
"Money, its a gas.
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
New car, caviar, four star daydream,
Think Ill buy me a football team.
Money, get back.
Im all right jack keep your hands off of my stack.
Money, its a hit.
Dont give me that do goody good bullshit.
Im in the high-fidelity first class traveling set
And I think I need a lear jet."
Gee, remember the good ol' days when all we had to worry about was..
"Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb."
...and durinmg Clinton's reign, it was "Come in here dear boy, have a cigar" (OK, boys probably weren't involved. And please don't mention any soon-to-be-former congressmen).
Bob