Like, sure single family homes in suburbia tend to look the same. You know what also looks the same from the outside? Apartments. Literally all you can see for each one is a window and maybe a balcony, and they all look identical.
The problem with American suburbia is not that houses are similar looking, or that the people in them raise families, go into business, or go to university. The song seriously reads like r/im14andthisisdeep material.
It really kind of depends. People focus on the "And they all look just the same" element of the song and glance over the fact that they're "made of ticky-tacky."
In an urban setting large solidly built structures slowly form accretions and extensions to them that slowly help a neighborhood develop character and personality over time. Large apartment blocks that don't permit something like that, as you see in lots of East Asian countries where they had to throw up tons of housing REAL fast, can also end up looking really bland and dehumanizing.
But then you go to a place that has had time to really develop character as multiple generations of residents have written over them without ever fully erasing what came before and you end up with beloved urban centers like New York or Paris.
The suburban development model doesn't really allow for that. The houses can get extensions in theory, but often deed restrictions or HOAs insist on things adhering to specifically defined code about how they can look and what they can do. The conformism is a willful aesthetic choice rather than just a pragmatic shortcut.
Personally, I've always found it a great example of irony. The condemnation of sameness and uniformity, from someone self-consciously countercultural and generally trotted out by others who are self-consciously counterculture stereotype compliant. A song lambasting people for their smug and thoughtless conformity from the perspective of someone thoughtlessly smug and superior for their conformity who marks the difference by sneering.
It's really a remarkable piece.
Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes made of ticky tacky Little boxes on the hillside, Little boxes all the same,
There's a pink one and a green one And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same.
And the people in the houses All went to the university Where they were put in boxes And they came out all the same
And there's doctors and lawyers And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course And drink their martinis dry And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school, And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university Where they are put in boxes And they come out all the same.
And the boys go into business And marry and raise a family In boxes made of ticky tacky And they all look just the same,
There's a pink one and a green one And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky tacky And they all look just the same.