Stockyard Stoics - The Ballad Of Maga And Squeaky lyrics

(with apologies to our comrades in Criminal Cla** USA for accidentally and not on purpose stealing the entire chorus melody from their song "Southern Justice") Incarceration! Degradation! Humiliation of a generation! Our friend Maga from Eugene She moved down to New Orleans Fell in love with this kid Squeaky from around the block Squeaky he knew his town well Piece of heaven, piece of hell Knew the sound of a key throwing home a deadbolt lock Squeaky came home late one night Found their street an ugly sight Of police cars and flashing lights and a body lying still Off-duty N.O.P.D. cop News at ten! Fatally shot! There's no chance they won't find the one that caused that blood to spill There'll be one more on the pile of useless forgotten hides Two-and-a-half million living breathing souls inside Two weeks later cops arrived Found Squeaky in his yard outside Knocked him down and beat him up and dragged him off to jail Asked if k**ing cops was fun Asked him where he put the gun Judge handed down an indictment and wouldn't give him any bail He'll be one more on the pile of useless forgotten hides Two-and-a-half million living breathing souls inside No slice of life, just loaded dice, no equal chance for all Only black and brown and red need stand for this racist cattle call [Chorus:] Hey! Hey! Lock 'em up and throw away the key Good old god-blessed USA ain't no place for living free Hey! Hey! Don't talk back and don't put up no fight Unless your bank account is full and your skin is lily white Incarceration! Degeneration! Humiliation of a generation! Sixteen months under lock and key in the depths of the storied OPP Sixteen months of an ugly joke with a burning fire and a fading hope Sixteen months with her love inside always wondering what she hasn't tried Sixteen months of court and bills and staying sane with bitter pills Sixteen months and sixty grand Sixteen months in the freedom land Sixteen months of creeping d**h Sixteen months with nothing left Sixteen months in a rotting cell And sixteen months of living hell But sometimes things turn out okay Maga's man came home today Not guilty! Not guilty! Oh yeah [Chorus] Not guilty! Not guilty! Oh yeah!