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And all the houses in the street have got a name

'Cos all the houses in the street they look the same

Same chimney pots, same little cars, same window panes

The neighbors call to tell you things that you should know

They say their lines, they drink their tea, and then they go

They tell your business in another Shangri-La

The gas bills and the water rates, and payments on the car

Too scared to think about how insecure you are

Life ain't so happy in your little Shangri-La
The Kinks, Shangri-La


where the suburbs met utopia

What kind of dream was this

so easy to destroy?

And who are we to blame

for the sins of the past?

These slums of the future?"
Pet Shop Boys, Suburbia

This could be heaven

Shallow spreads of ordered lawns

I like the illusion, illusion of privacy

The careful trees blending so perfectly

Bland planned idle luxury

A caviar of perfect dignity

Life in lovely allotted slots

A token nice, a nice constitution

A layered mass of subtle props
Public Image Ltd, No Birds
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