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Well I'm about to get sick |
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From watchin' my TV |
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Been checkin' out the news |
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Until my eyeballs fail to see |
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I mean to say that every day |
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Is just another rotten mess |
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And when it's gonna change, my friend |
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Is anybody's guess |
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So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin' |
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Hopin' for the best |
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Even think I'll go to prayin' |
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Every time I hear 'em sayin' |
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That there's no way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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No way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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Wednesday I watched the riot . . . |
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Seen the cops out on the street |
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Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff |
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And chokin' in the heat |
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Listened to reports |
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About the whisky passin' 'round |
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Seen the smoke and fire |
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And the market burnin' down |
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Watched while everybody |
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On his street would take a turn |
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To stomp and smash and bash and crash |
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And slash and bust and burn |
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And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin' |
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Hopin' for the best |
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Even think I'll go to prayin' |
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Every time I hear 'em sayin' |
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That there's no way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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No way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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Well, you can cool it, |
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You can heat it . . . |
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'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . . |
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Take your TV tube and eat it |
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'N all that phony stuff on sports |
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'N all the unconfirmed reports |
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You know I watched that rotten box |
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Until my head begin to hurt |
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From checkin' out the way |
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The newsman say they get the dirt |
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Before the guys on channel so-and-so |
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And further they assert |
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That any show they'll interrupt |
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To bring you news if it comes up |
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They say that if the place blows up |
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They will be the first to tell, |
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Because the boys they got downtown |
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Are workin' hard and doin' swell, |
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And if anybody gets the news |
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Before it hits the street, |
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They say that no one blabs it faster |
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Their coverage can't be beat |
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And if another woman driver |
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Gets machine-gunned from her seat |
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They'll send some joker with a brownie |
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And you'll see it all complete |
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So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin' |
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Hopin' for the best |
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Even think I'll go to prayin' |
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Every time I hear 'em sayin' |
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That there's no way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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No way to delay |
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That trouble comin' every day |
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Hey, you know something people? |
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I'm not black |
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But there's a whole lots a times |
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I wish I could say I'm not white |
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Well, I seen the fires burnin' |
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And the local people turnin' |
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On the merchants and the shops |
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Who used to sell their brooms and mops |
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And every other household item |
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Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em |
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And they say it served 'em right |
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Because a few of them are white, |
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And it's the same across the nation |
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Black and white discrimination |
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Yellin' "You can't understand me!" |
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'N all that other jazz they hand me |
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In the papers and TV and |
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All that mass stupidity |
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That seems to grow more every day |
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Each time you hear some nitwit say |
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He wants to go and do you in |
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Because the color of your skin |
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Just don't appeal to him |
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(No matter if it's black or white) |
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Because he's out for blood tonight |
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You know we got to sit around at home |
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And watch this thing begin |
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But I bet there won't be many live |
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To see it really end |
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'Cause the fire in the street |
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Ain't like the fire in the heart |
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And in the eyes of all these people |
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Don't you know that this could start |
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On any street in any town |
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In any state if any clown |
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Decides that now's the time to fight |
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For some ideal he thinks is right |
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And if a million more agree |
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There ain't no Great Society |
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As it applies to you and me |
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Our country isn't free |
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And the law refuses to see |
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If all that you can ever be |
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Is just a lousy janitor |
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Unless your uncle owns a store |
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You know that five in every four |
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Just won't amount to nothin' more |
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Gonna watch the rats go across the floor |
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And make up songs about being poor |
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Blow your harmonica, son! |