Times past, you'd waive your standards.
Wave a lantern, tow the line.
I'm stretched wide in holy sandals.
Mine's yours and yours is mine.
They'd take the freezer, break your bed, throw you a bag with a hole for your head
Did it feel any better out there in the shed?
Recalling messiahs that wound up dead.
They're taking my friend,
the king of the hill with a dog at the gates and a licence to k** smile for the camera,
down this pill you're twice as impressive when you stand still
They're marching in rags beriddled with fleas
That will feed on you, yes
While you still bleed
You just gonna lie there?
Now get on that steed
In the end they'll respect you. See?
The judge will make signs the jury will nod
"It's the right of the free man to keep what he's got
You can't it with you, it's sad, but amen -
If you can't take it with you, take some of them."
You can stop counting...
Number one
You can stop counting...
Leave the crumbs
You can stop...
There's cans on the shelf.
Remember the future takes care of itself.