The cycle of life is here To see in all of its fine simplicity But the way we live it seems to be, Something very weird to me And I cry out
For pettiness like lady's chatter Seems to complicate the matter I grit my teeth as my senses chatter For nothing gets me much madder As I leap out
For big or little, great or small, It really doesn't matter at all The way we shuffle our feet and hem and haw, 'Cause everybody's afraid they'll fall Or else be left out
But what's right for me or strange to you Shouldnât make a damn on what you do 'Cause whether or not you make it through, I thought that you already knew That I'll keep you going
And the World War III and the World Series Will make the same size headlines in the news
From all I've seen of politics, Itâs just a greasy big money stick That's geared to run on tongues So slick to make you think this is all there is Boy you're lucky (You're stuck with Humphrey)
How they con the little middle man Into thinkin' he has got a hand To play in the future of the Promised Land, he owes himself to the destiny of man Gets ridiculous
A cheap gangster hires someone To do his dirty work with a tommy gun While the President just points at anyone And says "I, your country needs some killing done Go do it now boy"
The war itself is bad enough, It can break you down no matter how tough But the tragedy of all the hoopla stuff, It makes you think you can't do enough For the shiny symbols
And the other countries feel the same as we And regret that I have but one country to give for my life
The preacher stands in his holy shroud sayin' "God forgives you if you do it now" But if you come back when the chips are down, Youâll find they've all gone underground To pray for you
A homosexual, disturbed priest feels that he can preach to me The right way to go and raise a family And I'm forced to look at him and say "you mean You're guessin"
The population is getting higher, The poverty poor, the pregnant tired Are waiting on the Pope to be inspired For some new contraceptive attire Saying "It's cool now"
It's a ghost behind a one-way mirror Listening tip-toed at the door to hear If someone outside won't speak the year Then they'll slip a note out how they feel About pierced ear-lobes
But the rules made now For the changing cows Are a little late And will be out of date by tomorrow
Her mother placed on virginity Saying it was the holy place to be For the things boys had were evilry When it came time for matrimony She froze and died there
Her sister at fourteen very well known thought all the kicks came lying there prone But a fundamental fact not spoken at home left her feeling like a chewed on bone And why she wondered
One chick who dug moving about, very liberal minded and often spoke out How she was cool and understood no doubt with the blankets up and the lights turned out And you're condescending
A couple together for five or six years, A marriage license they'd never been near But social pressure and loss of job fear Got them married and divorced in half a year They couldn't cut it
It's all talked about But still it's lived around And what is right for me Could be perversity in any state law book
I'm told a minstrel at one time w As allowed to sing and make his rhymes To comment on the news of the times And say directly what's in people's minds And he made tips for it
But today try playing on some street curb, Singin' the news in everyday words The people pass by, the laughin' is heard Or else they hit you where it hurts They keep their ears closed
One man said "Boy, I dig your stuff, I want you to come play in my club I'll put your name in lights up above, But just remember I got a club to run So don't be too strong"
It ain't your writers who sell out, Itâs the damn censors who turn about My life learned adjectives and vowels And say that my mouth is much too foul To clearly speak to you
But try to hit a nail and if the hammer fails Then the words you use to describe That bruise is basic language
I hoboed around and sang the songs That everybody knew and hummed along To amuse myself I wrote some songs, talkin' About things that could be right or wrong And I'm a little different
A record company you know well wanted to know if my song would sell I said, "Yes, I like it very well, If you don't sir, you can go to help" Somebody else change
So I kept playin' and bummin' around, singin' To the ones who dug my sound Some guys ask "Won't you play my town", I ask fair bread they put me down Their Caddie's mortgaged
Tried one deal, like "it's you and me", This guy said he could be of some use to me But when I found he's puttin' screws to me, I tipped my hat and made it back to the street Singin' new folk songs
If there's time enough, The hill ain't too rough What I wrote today, I might someday play, And make tips for it