| Well I’m about to get sick
|
| From watchin' my TV
|
| Been checkin' out the news
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| Until my eyeballs fail to see
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| I mean to say that every day
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| Is just another rotten mess
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| And when it’s gonna change, my friend
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| Is anybody’s guess
|
| So I’m watchin' and I’m waitin'
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| Hopin' for the best
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| Even think I’ll go to prayin'
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| Every time I hear 'em sayin'
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| That there’s no way to delay
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| That trouble comin' every day
|
| No way to delay
|
| That trouble comin' every day
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| Wednesday I watched the riot. |
| ..
|
| Seen the cops out on the street
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| Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
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| And chokin' in the heat
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| Listened to reports
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| About the whisky passin' 'round
|
| Seen the smoke and fire
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| And the market burnin' down
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| Watched while everybody
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| On his street would take a turn
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| To stomp and smash and bash and crash
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| And slash and bust and burn
|
| And I’m watchin' and I’m waitin'
|
| Hopin' for the best
|
| Even think I’ll go to prayin'
|
| Every time I hear 'em sayin'
|
| That there’s no way to delay
|
| That trouble comin' every day
|
| No way to delay
|
| That trouble comin' every day
|
| Well, you can cool it,
|
| You can heat it. |
| ..
|
| 'Cause, baby, I don’t need it. |
| ..
|
| Take your TV tube and eat it
|
| 'N all that phony stuff on sports
|
| 'N all the unconfirmed reports
|
| You know I watched that rotten box
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| Until my head begin to hurt
|
| From checkin' out the way
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| The newsman say they get the dirt
|
| Before the guys on channel so-and-so
|
| And further they assert
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| That any show they’ll interrupt
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| To bring you news if it comes up They say that if the place blows up They will be the first to tell,
|
| Because the boys they got downtown
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| Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
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| And if anybody gets the news
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| Before it hits the street,
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| They say that no one blabs it faster
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| Their coverage can’t be beat
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| And if another woman driver
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| Gets machine-gunned from her seat
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| They’ll send some joker with a brownie
|
| And you’ll see it all complete
|
| So I’m watchin' and I’m waitin'
|
| Hopin' for the best
|
| Even think I’ll go to prayin'
|
| Every time I hear 'em sayin'
|
| That there’s no way to delay
|
| That trouble comin' every day
|
| No way to delay
|
| That trouble comin' every day
|
| Hey, you know something people?
|
| I’m not black
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| But there’s a whole lots a times
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| I wish I could say I’m not white
|
| Well, I seen the fires burnin'
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| And the local people turnin'
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| On the merchants and the shops
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| Who used to sell their brooms and mops
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| And every other household item
|
| Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
|
| And they say it served 'em right
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| Because a few of them are white,
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| And it’s the same across the nation
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| Black and white discrimination
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| Yellin' «You can’t understand me!»
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| 'N all that other jazz they hand me In the papers and TV and
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| All that mass stupidity
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| That seems to grow more every day
|
| Each time you hear some nitwit say
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| He wants to go and do you in Because the color of your skin
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| Just don’t appeal to him
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| (No matter if it’s black or white)
|
| Because he’s out for blood tonight
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| You know we got to sit around at home
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| And watch this thing begin
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| But I bet there won’t be many live
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| To see it really end
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| 'Cause the fire in the street
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| Ain’t like the fire in the heart
|
| And in the eyes of all these people
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| Don’t you know that this could start
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| On any street in any town
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| In any state if any clown
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| Decides that now’s the time to fight
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| For some ideal he thinks is right
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| And if a million more agree
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| There ain’t no Great Society
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| As it applies to you and me Our country isn’t free
|
| And the law refuses to see
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| If all that you can ever be Is just a lousy janitor
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| Unless your uncle owns a store
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| You know that five in every four
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| Just won’t amount to nothin' more
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| Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
|
| And make up songs about being poor
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| Blow your harmonica, son! |