Handmade

Handmade
By Jimmy Rankin

Everywhere I go everything’s plastic
Everywhere I turn it’s all the same
I’m makin’ my way through the smoke and the ashes
It’s out of the fire and into the flame

Give me something that is real
Give me something I can taste
Show me someone who can feel
I’m sick and tired of this place
But everybody must get paid
Give me something handmade

Have we lost our style in the face of fashion?
Have we lost the need and the will to care?
Something’s gone nobody’s asking
Seems the more I look it’s nowhere

Give me something that is real
Give me something I can taste
Show me someone who can feel
I’m sick and tired of this place
But everybody must get paid
Give me something handmade

These are the days of concrete and steel
This is the circus with the dancing clown
Hear the thundering roar roll over the border
These are the days when it all comes down

Give me something that is real
Give me something I can taste
Show me someone who can feel
I’m sick and tired of this place
But everybody must get paid
Give me something handmade
Give me something handmade

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