Legs scream at bikes and bikes scream at trucks and motorists curse their lousy luck crossing guard's not doing his job and traffic's not about to stop for the first casuality of though it's the rules it's the rules superfarmer's bent on the cover of time the moralist screams he's all mine so the bard isn't doing her job the vacuum night the darkest rites the small quarantined thoughts it's the rules it's the rules salesman says this vacuum's guaranteed it could suck an ancient virus from the sea it could put the dog out of a job could make the traffic stop so little thoughs can safely get across it's the rules it's the rules guaranteed or not it's the rules