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Everybody's jumping on the circus train |
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Some jump high, some jump off again |
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And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled |
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All truths to light, all crosses nailed |
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Aiming high where the eagle circles |
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Where he keeps his tail feathers clean |
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And wonders am I still a free bird |
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Or just a part of the machine |
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They hitch their covered wagons and they roll out west |
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Politics in the pockets of their Sunday best |
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Shaking hands, kissing babies for all that they're worth |
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Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth |
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Still, that old bald eagle circles |
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It's not the first time that he's seen |
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His reflection in the eyes of innocence |
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He's become just another part of the machine |
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Part of the machine |
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I wish I had an eagle like you |
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To look up to |
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He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky |
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Up above the whole machine |
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Part of the machine |
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Smart guys aren't running, they're home and dry |
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Up in the mountains where the eagle flies |
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They wouldn't take that job offered on a plate |
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They gotta fly with the eagle and he won't wait |
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Looking down on the smoke and the factories |
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'Til the truth creeps up unseen |
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They see themselves in the faces of their children |
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And realize they too are part of the machine |
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Part of the machine |
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I wish I had an eagle like you |
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To wake up to |
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He could be my wings to fly |
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In a big bird sky |
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Hey, let's be part of the machine |
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Part of the machine |
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Part of the machine |
