Hey there, son of Adam Hey there, daughter of Eve Help me sing this tear gas riot song For some fresh-faced police They won't even know what hit them When they lift their Roman shades And the people's sun comes pouring in On a brand new day
You who dammed the river You changed our mountain's name First we want Denali back Then we're taking over Washington state You get death as a consolation You know only hate and rage You paid a dowry for your child bride And now she's living like a slave
A prayer came down the wire It was all in the enemy's code You couldn't figure out what mercy meant So you did like you were told When they finally sent the doctors Once the fireball went out There was nothing left but the cockroaches And a movie with no sound
What good, what good are you With your Cherokee trail and your Roosevelt Room? What good, what good are you With your cynical plague and your Arlington tomb?
Go ask Hunter Thompson Go ask Hemingway's ghost It all catches up with you Once you get just a little too old Take a hard look in the mirror It's a thing that you cannot see Your shadow's long but the day is young It just wasn't meant to be
There's no blankets for the winter There's no oil in the lamp And I'd like to write my congressman But I can't afford the stamp You want me to pay my taxes So you can propagate your lie While there's barefoot dudes down in New Orleans Looking like they're going to die
You who quote the legends You who poisoned all of my dreams You who pinned all of the medals on All those boys from Omaha Beach Hope you haven't got too lazy I know you like your apple pie Because the working poor you've been pissing on Are doing double shifts tonight
What good, what good are you With your cynical plague and your Arlington tomb? What good, what good are you With your Cherokee trail and your Roosevelt Room?