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Well I'll tell you a story of whiskey and mystics and men |
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And about the believers and how the whole thing began |
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First there were women and children obeying the moon |
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Then daylight brought wisdom and fever and sickness too soon |
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You can try to remind me instead of the other you can |
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You can help to insure that we all insecure our command |
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If you don't give a listen, I won't try to tell your new hand |
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This is it, can't you see that we all have our ends in the band? |
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And if all of the teachers and preachers of wealth were arraigned |
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We could see quite a future for me in the literal sands |
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And if all of the people could claim to inspect such regret |
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Well, we'd have no forgiveness, forgetfulness, faithful remorse |
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So, I tell you, I tell you, I tell you we must send away |
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We must try to find a new answer instead of a way |
