On the outskirts of town where brutish new houses rush up to meet you On treeless streets, a freeway wind blowing, no soul to greet you Oh hell, it is here, if you open the door But you won't feel a thing if you shut the blinds and flick on the screen We are sold If we work hard we'll reap the rewards And we work hard and never look up But the hard work is never enough In the sight of the mansion at night Windows glowing behind high fences bright And down in the alleys the cardboard house They put up a fight Maggie's on the bus to her 2nd job in the city sweeping up How many breaths, how many hours just to keep up We are sold If we work hard we'll reap the rewards And we work hard and never look up But the hard work is never enough Can we do what we love Can we do what we love Can we do what we love and love what we do Can we do what we love and love what we do Can we do what we love Can we love Can we love Can we love We are sold If we work hard we'll reap the rewards And we work hard and never look up But the hard work is never enough