Faithless on the skids hung out to dry oh seen better days
|
With the sunlight fading like a tabloid and I I have found
|
All those double-barreled freedom fighters are in for themselves
|
And a call to arms has never been about anything else
|
|
Fire one more round
|
But hate is not a lone assailant
|
Hear the drummers pound
|
Listen to the homespun violent sound
|
|
Hatred on the prowl underneath an oh new guise garb and gown
|
And he's so persuasive when you look in his eyes all dumbfound
|
And the double-talkin' politicians expose their intimate lives
|
While the sheep are lowing for the shepherd to show he never arrives
|
|
Fire one more round
|
But hate is not a lone assailant
|
Hear the drummers pound
|
Listen to the homespun violent sound
|
Sound
|
Sound
|
|
Ooh I'll tell you how it
|
Pains to say this
|
Ugliness is ours
|
'Cause I would better lay in bed and
|
Maybe even sleep all day
|
Maybe sleep some more
|
Some more
|
|
Too
|
Yeah now
|
|
Suspicion is a powerful religion when it leads to the force on these shores
|
In the jungles of the midwest dwarf militia train for war right on course
|
Unlike the famous fable revolution won't yield a firework show
|
Unlike the famous fable revolution won't end on July the Fourth
|
|
Fire one more round
|
But hate is not a lone assailant
|
Hear the drummers pound
|
Listen to the homespun violent sound
|
Sound
|
Sound
|
Sound
|
Yeah sound
|
|
Yeah the homespun sound
|
I hear the sound
|
Yeah the homespun sound
|
|
-----------------
|
HOMESPUN
|
| Grant Lee Buffalo |
