|
You finally found the mainstream |
|
In the middle of your life |
|
You tapped into a vein |
|
Of endless gold chains |
|
Now you're locked up tight |
|
Tearing down the middle of it |
|
Splitting it right in half |
|
Bobbing up and down the waves |
|
Like a runaway slave |
|
On a huck finn raft |
|
Chorus: |
|
Take your wife |
|
Take your family |
|
Take your gun |
|
Running through the woods |
|
And the burned out neighborhoods |
|
Looking for someone |
|
A member of your tribe |
|
A place you can hide |
|
'til the war has begun |
|
'cause in the fields before the flood |
|
You'll be spilling blood |
|
Like a native son |
|
Where you gonna run to |
|
There ain't no underground |
|
If only you could fly |
|
You'd cut across the sky |
|
Like a rifle round |
|
Oh, who are your people |
|
And where is your homeland |
|
'cause they're dying side by side |
|
At the river of pride |
|
Where we tried to take a stand |
|
Chorus twice |
|
In the fields before the flood |
|
You'll be spilling blood |
|
Like a native son |
