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Hold me down |
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I am floating away |
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In to the overcast skies |
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Over my hometown |
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On election day |
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What is it about birmingham? |
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What is it about buffalo? |
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That the hate-filled wanna build bunkers |
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In your beautiful red earth |
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They wanna build them |
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In our shiny white snow |
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Now i've drawn closed the curtain |
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In this little booth where the truth has no place |
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To stand |
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And i'm feeling oh so powerless |
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In this stupid booth with this useless |
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Little lever in my hand |
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And outside my city is bracing |
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For the next killing thing |
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Standing by the bridge and praying |
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For the next doctor |
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Martin |
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Luther |
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King |
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It was just one shot |
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Through the kitchen window |
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It was just one or two miles from here |
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If you fly like a crow |
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A bullet came to visit a doctor |
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In his one safe place |
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A bullet insuring the right to life |
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Whizzed past his kid and his wife |
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And knocked his glasses |
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Right off of his face |
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And the blood poured off the pulpit |
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The blood poured off the picket line |
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Yeah, the hatred was immediate |
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And the vengance was divine |
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So they went and stuff god |
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Down the barrel of a gun |
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And after him |
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They stuffed his only son |
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Hello birmingham |
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It's buffalo |
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I heard you had some trouble |
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Down there again |
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And i'm just calling to let you know |
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That somebody understands |
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I was once escorted |
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Through the doors of a clinic |
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By a man in a bulletproof vest |
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And no bombs went off that day |
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So i am still here to say |
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Birmingham |
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I'm wishing you all of my best |
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Oh birmingham |
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I'm wishing you all of my best |
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Birmingham |
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I'm wishing you all of my best |
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On this election day |
