| Song | Eulogy and Light |
| Artist | Funkadelic |
| Album | Free Your Mind...And Your Ass Will Follow |
| 作词 : Harris | |
| Our father | |
| Which art on Wall Street | |
| Honored be thy buck | |
| Thy kingdom came | |
| This be thy year | |
| From sea to shining sea | |
| Thou givest me false pride | |
| Funked down by the riverside | |
| From every head and ass | |
| may dollars flow | |
| Give us this pay | |
| Our daily bread | |
| Forgive us our goofs | |
| As we rob from each other | |
| He maketh me to sell dope to small children | |
| For thou art evil | |
| And we adore thee | |
| Thy destruction and thy power | |
| They comfort me | |
| My Cadillac and my pinky ring | |
| They restoreth me in thee | |
| Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of poverty | |
| I must feel their envy | |
| For I am loaded, high and all those other goodies | |
| That go along with the good god big buck | |
| To young whores | |
| in muck grows there | |
| Ahead in time | |
| the unexpected soul-searching beam of the strobe | |
| But now, the stairway looms | |
| And as I rise | |
| The cries of kittens, gray, make way | |
| For there, now near | |
| Here now, gone, alone | |
| I feel my wrist, it flicks the switch | |
| No lights reveal the room or me | |
| She sees, then panics, grabs a light | |
| I scream, silent comforts that are not heard | |
| I panic, for I have not said a word | |
| Hysteria hold the room in sway | |
| I run, I back away, to hide | |
| From what? | |
| From fear? | |
| The truth, the light? | |
| Is truth the light? |
| zuò cí : Harris | |
| Our father | |
| Which art on Wall Street | |
| Honored be thy buck | |
| Thy kingdom came | |
| This be thy year | |
| From sea to shining sea | |
| Thou givest me false pride | |
| Funked down by the riverside | |
| From every head and ass | |
| may dollars flow | |
| Give us this pay | |
| Our daily bread | |
| Forgive us our goofs | |
| As we rob from each other | |
| He maketh me to sell dope to small children | |
| For thou art evil | |
| And we adore thee | |
| Thy destruction and thy power | |
| They comfort me | |
| My Cadillac and my pinky ring | |
| They restoreth me in thee | |
| Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of poverty | |
| I must feel their envy | |
| For I am loaded, high and all those other goodies | |
| That go along with the good god big buck | |
| To young whores | |
| in muck grows there | |
| Ahead in time | |
| the unexpected soulsearching beam of the strobe | |
| But now, the stairway looms | |
| And as I rise | |
| The cries of kittens, gray, make way | |
| For there, now near | |
| Here now, gone, alone | |
| I feel my wrist, it flicks the switch | |
| No lights reveal the room or me | |
| She sees, then panics, grabs a light | |
| I scream, silent comforts that are not heard | |
| I panic, for I have not said a word | |
| Hysteria hold the room in sway | |
| I run, I back away, to hide | |
| From what? | |
| From fear? | |
| The truth, the light? | |
| Is truth the light? |