Mr. Richards
|
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Mr. Richards, your position
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Is a messenger pigeon
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Left behind you when the camp moved on.
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We thought that you would listen
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but the words had never crystallized
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Into a truth that you might own, hey hey.
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Mr. Richards, your decision.
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Pay attention, pay attention.
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Mr. Richards, you're forgiven
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for a narrow lack of vision
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But the fires are still raging on.
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The public's got opinions
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and these consequences border on
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The compound that you raised
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Will sell it see, hey hey.
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Mr. Richards, your decision.
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Pay attention, pay attention.
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So listen, your intention;
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Sign the papers, stamp the ribbon.
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You're mistaken if you think we'll just forget.
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You can thump your chest and rattle,
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Stand in front of your piano,
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But we know what's going on.
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Yes we know what's going on.
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We're the children of the choir, hey
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and we know what's going on.
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Mr. Richards, your conviction
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Had us cheering in the kitchen,
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Now the jury's eating pigeon pie.
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So tell me how is prison?
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Have they taught you how to listen?
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We've begun to bridge the schism.
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Pay attention, pay attention.
|
|
Mr. Richards, your decision.
|
Pay attention, pay attention.
|
|
You can thump your chest and rattle,
|
Stand in front of your piano
|
But we know what's going on.
|
Yes we know what's going on.
|
We're the children of the choir, hey
|
From the compound fire, hey
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And we know what's going on.
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Yes we know what's going on.
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|
-----------------
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Mr. Richards
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| R.E.M. |
