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You know where I come from, you know what I feel |
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You're Yul Brenner Westworld, reporting from the field |
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I threw it into reverse, made a motion to repeal |
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You kicked my legs from under me and tried to take the wheel |
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I told you |
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I wanted to be wrong |
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But everyone is humming a song |
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That I don't understand |
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Now I know that the sun has shined on my side of the street |
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The basket of America, the weevils with the wheat |
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The milk and honeyed congregation, scrubbed and apple cheeked |
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Salute Apollo Thirteen from the rattle jewelry seats |
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Mythology's seductive and it turned a trick on me |
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That I have just begun to understand |
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I told you |
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I wanted to be wrong |
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But everyone is humming a song |
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That I don't understand |
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The rodeo is staged, gold circle, goat ropers and clowns |
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A rumble in the third act, tie 'em up and burn 'em down |
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We're armed to the teeth, born a little breech |
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Blue plate special analysts, cells and S.U.V.'s |
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We can't approach the allies 'cause they seem a little peeved |
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And speak a language we don't understand |
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I told you |
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I wanted to be wrong |
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But everyone is humming a song |
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That I don't understand |
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Storm into the boardroom of the conquering elite |
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Did you recognize the madman who is shouting in the streets? |
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Destroy the things that I don't understand |
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Destroy the things that I don't understand |
