The Blues On Banjo Songtext
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Well I woke up this morning
And I realized that I repeat myself
I said I woke up this morning
And I realized that I repeat myself
Well I woke up this morning
They say one-and-one is two
Well I have my suspicions
I believe it may well be another one of these
Crazy old religious superstitions
And I realized that I repeat myself
I said I woke up this morning
And I realized that I repeat myself
Well I woke up this morning
They say one-and-one is two
Well I have my suspicions
I believe it may well be another one of these
Crazy old religious superstitions
Would you believe the same financial institution
Backing both sides of every war
Since before the French Revolution
Still run the Federal Reserve
In all but just a small handfull of nations
It's a paper-clip-operation
By even the most reasonable explanation
It may well be the single longest whitest Bronco chase
In the history of the conspiracy of television is all I'm sayin'
Yeah, one for the money
Two for the money
Three for the money
Four for even more money
The Seventh Wonder was saying'
In Seventh Heaven watchin'
The seventh building falling
On Nine-Eleven
Screamin' Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman Honeywell and L-3 Communications
These are the corporations
Sellin' perpetual murder and mass destruction
Under the false flag of my protection
From the shadow branch of a government
Still under the spell of its own addiction
To untold commercialization
Why it would seem easy to me to see
Without too much hesitation
How someone could just
Wake up one morning
And come to the Richard Lewis-like conclusion and-or realization
That there was absolutely no hope whatsoever left
For even the slightest portion of our civilization
So zippity-doodah motherfucker
Zippity-aye
My oh my, what a wonderful case of the blues
I am experiencing today
While the air in my motel has been conditioned
In just such a way
That it seems like every single note
I ask this priceless banjo of mine to play
Takes the unmistakeable sounds of my depths and my pains and my sorrow
And turns 'em into some kind of embarrasin' soundin' hope for tomorrow
And that's not me, man
That's not who I am
You know, we mistake desperate people for the devil all the time
So there is no real way of knowing
What kind of a deal it was that I actually signed
But it was my understanding
That I would be the single greatest blues guitar player in the world by now, and I am not
In fact, to the contrary
I'm just another workin' fuckin' schmuck out here standin' around waiting to get shot
In yet another tragic edition
To an already sorry state of affairs
With yet another set of politicians
Takin' to the top of another set of courthouse stairs
You know you are out of ideas
When you get down to your thoughts and your prayers
But that's just what they're doin' down here
Down here on these courthouse stairs
They're sending out their thoughts and their prayers
Yep
They're sending out their thoughts and their prayers to you
That's it too
They're sending our their thoughts and their prayers
Allow four-to-six weeks for delivery
Sending our their thoughts and their prayers
Well I woke up this morning
And I realized that I repeat myself
Backing both sides of every war
Since before the French Revolution
Still run the Federal Reserve
In all but just a small handfull of nations
It's a paper-clip-operation
By even the most reasonable explanation
It may well be the single longest whitest Bronco chase
In the history of the conspiracy of television is all I'm sayin'
Yeah, one for the money
Two for the money
Three for the money
Four for even more money
The Seventh Wonder was saying'
In Seventh Heaven watchin'
The seventh building falling
On Nine-Eleven
Screamin' Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman Honeywell and L-3 Communications
These are the corporations
Sellin' perpetual murder and mass destruction
Under the false flag of my protection
From the shadow branch of a government
Still under the spell of its own addiction
To untold commercialization
Why it would seem easy to me to see
Without too much hesitation
How someone could just
Wake up one morning
And come to the Richard Lewis-like conclusion and-or realization
That there was absolutely no hope whatsoever left
For even the slightest portion of our civilization
So zippity-doodah motherfucker
Zippity-aye
My oh my, what a wonderful case of the blues
I am experiencing today
While the air in my motel has been conditioned
In just such a way
That it seems like every single note
I ask this priceless banjo of mine to play
Takes the unmistakeable sounds of my depths and my pains and my sorrow
And turns 'em into some kind of embarrasin' soundin' hope for tomorrow
And that's not me, man
That's not who I am
You know, we mistake desperate people for the devil all the time
So there is no real way of knowing
What kind of a deal it was that I actually signed
But it was my understanding
That I would be the single greatest blues guitar player in the world by now, and I am not
In fact, to the contrary
I'm just another workin' fuckin' schmuck out here standin' around waiting to get shot
In yet another tragic edition
To an already sorry state of affairs
With yet another set of politicians
Takin' to the top of another set of courthouse stairs
You know you are out of ideas
When you get down to your thoughts and your prayers
But that's just what they're doin' down here
Down here on these courthouse stairs
They're sending out their thoughts and their prayers
Yep
They're sending out their thoughts and their prayers to you
That's it too
They're sending our their thoughts and their prayers
Allow four-to-six weeks for delivery
Sending our their thoughts and their prayers
Well I woke up this morning
And I realized that I repeat myself
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