Words and Music © 2014 by Karen I. Olsen
*****
You tell us who we should love and wed;
O hey-ho, any fancy-oh.
Plant angel spies all around my bed,
Or pray to make it so.
You aim our joys in life to steal,
Redefining what we feel;
For all your froth and thundering,
How do you know what's real?
So feed me not with your table's crumbs;
Keep your games with an "ought" their sum.
Save your breath and let me be;
All your work to naught must come.
You tell us how we should love and birth;
O hey-ho, any fancy-oh.
While you rape the hell out of Mother Earth,
Or pray to make it so.
You flap your gums all the night and day,
With nary a rational word to say;
Invoking the Constitution,
While waging war on everyone...
So feed me not with your table's crumbs;
Keep your games with an "ought" their sum.
Gnash your tongues and let me be;
All your work to naught must come.
You pull the nets from the sick and poor;
O hey-ho, any fancy-oh.
Then set the wolves after each one's door,
Or pray to make it so.
You dream of a day we'll work for beans,
With never a hint of protest scenes.
Keep dreaming as you will;
You'll see our will is stronger still...
So feed me not with your table's crumbs;
Keep your games with an "ought" their sum.
Stand aside and let me be;
All your work to naught must come.
You dare to claim you are such as we;
O hey-ho, any fancy-oh.
Who dumped the o'er-taxed English tea,
And prayed to make it so.
Your puppet-masters pull your threads;
Talk of "revolt's" gone to your heads.
Deceit that knows not shame,
They pour millions into their patriot games.
So feed me not with your table's crumbs;
Keep your games with an "ought" their sum.
Gulp your piss and let me be;
All your work to naught must come.
You think that Christ is in your employ;
O hey-ho, any fancy-oh.
Some kind of mascot or poster boy,
Or pray to make it so.
But Spirit's free as a bird in spring;
A single breath changes everything.
And love will drive away
Your hate and fear of a bright new day...
So feed me not with your table's crumbs;
Keep your games with an "ought" their sum.
Go your ways and let me be;
All your work to naught must come.
(Repeat chorus)