| With a little faith we could raise the land | |
| With a little hope we could move as planned | |
| With a little faith we could raise the land | |
| With a little hope we could move as planned | |
| Farm the ghetto up, | |
| Feed the famine down with our nose to the grindstone | |
| Ear to the ground | |
| Find a steady job, | |
| Build a happy home | |
| Farm a steady crop, | |
| Then depose the throne | |
| We could irrigate thirst quenching lake, | |
| Make a fertile place | |
| Thus the desert spake... | |
| Spill the feathers up, | |
| Slash the silk might as well stop boo hooing over all that spilt milk, | |
| Empty trap, screaming eye, | |
| Seething lip, stop wondering | |
| Why butter mountains here. | |
| Better motivate it's getting late, | |
| Assassinate the grain, co co co co commotion | |
| Before a global war, | |
| We'd better bridge the ocean | |
| Just like an open wound that | |
| Forever bleeds just like an open plain | |
| In scattered seeds or the foolish man | |
| Believing all he reads, | |
| He begs, he pleads. |
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