So you can't believe the night when She says you're on fire In an empty street. Even the moon says she's a star When she's staring white With the sunlight. And you and I are of the same dust, And we both watch The great parade. But you grew up and learned the tune Of the marching band, You fell in line. Then you built each other churches So you could draw Some line of truth. In the banks and in the ballrooms What you say ain't what you do. And it's the strangest thing— The few, the small, The judge and jury. The richest men carry the country Straight to it's grave. Now we've been wronged And we've been had Another day, here In the promised land. You've done no wrong. You should be mad. This ain't the good life That you worked to have. This ain't the good life And I will take anything That the morning brings.