It's the name of a band; I wasn't referring to Smirk.
YOU AND ME AND TOM (1997)
We're crashing at your parents' pad
on our way down to the pride parade
you must've lied 'cause the word "pride"
has been replaced by the words "free trade"
you never said home was a subdivision called "patriot hills"
someone tore down the Berlin Wall
yet this is still Flagwaverville
Everyone's palefaced and no-one's poor
nothing has changed since the civil war
there's NRA stickers on the door
In the garage there's a corsage
proudly preserved since your junor prom
and there's a torch they keep on the porch
in case they need it for someone's lawn
then there's the shrine:
photos of golden boys in hordes loom in the den
lovingly culled since you were born, and born again, and born again
everyone's dressed for a pilgrimage
the Readers Digests are all abridged
there's NRA magnets on the fridge
and I wonder what you're gonna tell your mom
about you and me and Tom
'cause the family's collapsing, the family's collapsing
haven't you people heard the news?
it's decreed open season on all social taboos
'cause the family's collapsing, the family's collapsing
couples are bailing out in force
if you can't keep abreast of the rest, get a divorce
dinner is served
rules are observed
you never told me you played with tanks
everyone takes fifty ounce steaks
bowing their heads to their knees in thanks
Holy Genet
nothing I possibly could say wouldn't be rude
somehow the bathroom must be safe
"may I be excused? I swallowed some food."
under the portrait of young Bob Hope
sharing a platitude with the Pope
there's NRA carved into the soap
and I wonder what you're gonna tell your mom
about you and me and Tom
but the family's collapsing, the family's collapsing
haven't you people heard a thing?
all that's virtuous, righteous and good hangs by a string
'cause the family's collapsing, the family's collapsing
it's not an actual family
it's a Christian condition become metonymy
tell them you're broke
tell them you smoke
tell them you're joining the Viet Cong
tell them you're dead and you're inbred
and you've decided that Rush is wrong
tell them it all:
you've joined a cult of wise fakirs who only eat beans
you've found a promising career in porn magazines in New Orleans
tell them you're Noam Chomsky's protegee
tell them you're anything else but gay
tell them you've blown up the NRA
and I wonder when you're gonna tell your mom
about you and me and Tom.
(from
http://www.hiddenagendamusic.com/myshkins/lyrics.html#tom)