| Johnny was a chameleon when it was predominantly shrapnel, shrapnel from the
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| chapel of the Katman
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| Johnny kiss the groom and go join the killing while Britain is watching her
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| Watson
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| Headed down to Tianamon but had tarry enough time, shoulda listened to the
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| world turn
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| Told me that the cheaters are watching scratch ticket Jesus insulting the sultan
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| But we got an offer to lessen the lesson learned,
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| Like kissing cousins kissing out of turn
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| But if you gonna play you gotta play the party lines
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| We gon' take back this town if it takes us all,
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| Hey kid you look you could be found
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| But for the moment we are the fault line
|
| I mind that our time
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| Is still marked by the grains of intolerance
|
| It’s our lives, our fight
|
| Til we done, til we done, til we done, til we done
|
| In the United States of discrimination the schools feed into the prison
|
| The corporations are more powerful than the government
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| Give the teachers a banker’s salary and see how that goes
|
| See if we farm our land again, Kilanmanjaro it snows
|
| You sleep in your Egyptian linen 500 count thread what’s the count on the dead
|
| We are the eye of the needle, we fixing to mend this quilt of lies that’s
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| ripped up on our bed
|
| We coming in quick and we got Angela Davis on our lips and Mandela in our head
|
| We got an offer to lessen the lesson learned,
|
| Like kissing cousins kissing out of turn
|
| But if you gonna play you gotta play the party lines
|
| We gon' take back this town if it takes us all,
|
| Hey kid you look you could be found
|
| But for the moment we are the fault line
|
| I mind that our time
|
| Is still marked by the grains of intolerance
|
| It’s our lives, our fight
|
| Til we done, til we done, til we done, til we done, ay,
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| I lost my religion along with my innocence
|
| Our lives our time
|
| Til we done, til we done, til we done, til we done,
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| Til we done, done, done, done, done, done, done, well,
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| At least she got her body,
|
| And he’s a boy named Sue
|
| The Federales sure ain’t no expert on love,
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| Why would we listen to you,
|
| Well at least we got our bodies,
|
| We all a boy named Sue
|
| And we’ll fight til it’s done, til the borders are run,
|
| Where there’s gardens not guns, life is anew
|
| It was a fight night and the prize fighter cut like in a knife fight,
|
| It was all over the highlights when he got hit by a hard right,
|
| He saw stars like lightbright couldn’t see any sightline,
|
| Started his skydive from the highlife, like Pele plain highlight,
|
| Shoulding m’aide to his heyday,
|
| In the pell-mell of the melee,
|
| His corner was getting a payday needed Thompson from My Lai,
|
| Turn his guns his own guys, but it wasn’t Maltofs and Mai Thais,
|
| Just AKs and white lies,
|
| Tell Mount Sinai to believe in I and I and you and you, not an eye for an eye
|
| and I ain’t eyeing the cap on your tooth
|
| But then again I ain’t debating and standing in your shoes,
|
| I’m just trying to figure out which Golden Rule I should choose,
|
| We getting high sided by the tie guys,
|
| White color crime pays just look at the bylines,
|
| If you believe in anything believe in occupy,
|
| Cause it’s a richman’s world and we getting off the sidelines
|
| I mind that our time
|
| Is still marked by the grains of intolerance
|
| It’s our lives, our fight til we done,
|
| Til we done, til we done, til we done
|
| I might let the gallery down
|
| But there are people by the thousands outside —
|
| And we are just getting by
|
| I might,
|
| Might let the gallery down,
|
| Depending on how many votes did you buy |