There’s a black man in the white house
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
Illusions, delusions, confusions, intrusions
Run rampant through the foggy pathways
Of their closed and bitter minds
As they dream about another day that’s coming
They cling to some faint hope
That someday they will be president
But they should take a rope
And hang like an apple in the wind
Because that’s the proper justice
For these kind of men and women
Dreams and schemes of grandeur
Dominate their waking hours
And they go seeking power
From the proletariats that they’ve wounded
With their bombs and guns a blazing
The political pundits and professors
Wrap them-selves in pontificating pride
For being on the side of knowing
For once in a long, long time
Which way the political wind was blowing
The contortionists in the cemetery
Have chosen mediocre graves
And wonder where the circuses have gone
The clowns in the center ring
Shed a bitter tear as they seek applause
From the saints that have come so far to see them
All the lost souls hide on the backs of white birds
And hope that heaven will receive them
The lemming and the dodo are still your best friends
As you wander through your multi coloured dreams
You stop and listen to the bearded poets
As they spout their vitriolic, bitter rhymes
And you wonder why they do not sing of freedom
As you wander through the fields of dying
You wonder if you will ever go back home
Or will you end up as so many soldiers do
Lying in the bed that was made for you
By the visionaries that have chosen war
Can you forgive their naked lies
That have brought you from the summer fields
And given you so much pain in return
You listen to the singing birds on some back porch
Somewhere in the vague shadows of your mind
And you pray that they will again come some day
Back from the lands where they are forever young
You wish that they will bring seeds
Of hope, of peace and of bright dreams
So you can plant them on the rainy days of spring
But you know in heart and mind
That the good are born to die young
And take their dreams of optimism and change
When they crawl into their graves
With the contortionists that are waiting for them
Will the clowns still cry for you
When you surrender to
The nightmares that you are now dreaming
Or will the saints wipe away bitter tears
And tell the clowns to stop crying
As they fly away on doves of peace
Will they ever find what they died for
There’s a black man in the white house
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
There’s a black man in the white house
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
Illusions, delusions, confusions, intrusions
Run rampant through the foggy pathways
Of their closed and bitter minds
As they dream about another day that’s coming
They cling to some faint hope
That someday they will be president
But they should take a rope
And hang like an apple in the wind
Because that’s the proper justice
For these kind of men and women
Dreams and schemes of grandeur
Dominate their waking hours
And they go seeking power
From the proletariats that they’ve wounded
With their bombs and guns a blazing
The political pundits and professors
Wrap them-selves in pontificating pride
For being on the side of knowing
For once in a long, long time
Which way the political wind was blowing
The contortionists in the cemetery
Have chosen mediocre graves
And wonder where the circuses have gone
The clowns in the center ring
Shed a bitter tear as they seek applause
From the saints that have come so far to see them
All the lost souls hide on the backs of white birds
And hope that heaven will receive them
The lemming and the dodo are still your best friends
As you wander through your multi coloured dreams
You stop and listen to the bearded poets
As they spout their vitriolic, bitter rhymes
And you wonder why they do not sing of freedom
As you wander through the fields of dying
You wonder if you will ever go back home
Or will you end up as so many soldiers do
Lying in the bed that was made for you
By the visionaries that have chosen war
Can you forgive their naked lies
That have brought you from the summer fields
And given you so much pain in return
You listen to the singing birds on some back porch
Somewhere in the vague shadows of your mind
And you pray that they will again come some day
Back from the lands where they are forever young
You wish that they will bring seeds
Of hope, of peace and of bright dreams
So you can plant them on the rainy days of spring
But you know in heart and mind
That the good are born to die young
And take their dreams of optimism and change
When they crawl into their graves
With the contortionists that are waiting for them
Will the clowns still cry for you
When you surrender to
The nightmares that you are now dreaming
Or will the saints wipe away bitter tears
And tell the clowns to stop crying
As they fly away on doves of peace
Will they ever find what they died for
There’s a black man in the white house
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
There’s a black man in the white house
Much to the white supremacists shame
That don’t care that he’s a decent man
All they do is curse his name
Blame the liberals and the democrats
And all the other socialists that elected him
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