|
All the fur and fin will lose again' |
|
Cause our better is their worst reckonin' |
|
And our fine-feathered friends will sing until they bleed |
|
And how will we replace that symphony? |
|
I've got the blackest boots, the whitest skin |
|
Satisfy my sugar tongue again |
|
Sing me love that buys us shoe shine days |
|
Guilded verses for your ethylene |
|
And sing it to me free and clean |
|
All the kids come home with foreign limbs |
|
Hunting trips abroad they lose again |
|
And we'll teach them how to talk |
|
And whistle while they walk |
|
And do the dirty work of battle hymns |
|
I've got the blackest boots, the whitest skin |
|
Satisfy my sugar tongue again |
|
Sing me love that buys us shoe-shine days |
|
Guilded verses for your ethylene |
|
And sing it to me free and clean |
|
Drinking tea with milk and |
|
JanjaweedPontificate on genocide or greed |
|
With a spoonful of descent |
|
For the orchestra of need |
|
Is just enough to please this colony |
|
I've got the blackest boots, the whitest skin |
|
Satisfy my sugar tongue again |
|
Bring me lullabies and morphine dreams |
|
Belladonna with her atropine |
|
And sing it to me free and clean |