Holy Motors Timber Timbre

Let me tell you what we've got
Several giant parking lots
Motor city with a mall
And a crumbling city hall

Every smile is a scowl
Conversations end in rows
And the racial epithets
And the homophobic threats

We’re an army here of gimps
Jocks and motorcycle pimps
With our brothels in the tracks
At the motor motel shacks

Every bungalow is brown
Everybody doing down
That's the neighbor's house on fire
An amphetamine empire

All the kids are litterbugs
Grooming bullies to be thugs
The ravine is full of trash
And the water leaves a rash

But the crime rates here are low
Up in old Ontario
And they say you’re safe as milk
If you're of the proper ilk