Sing the song of all
Sing the song of all
When the biopsy comes back
I can't help but think
where the fuck is Spiderman
when you really need him?
Where is that Buddha boy
when loneliness strangles you
and the street poets sell out
for a hand full of applause?
When the Super Ego comes dancing
beside itself with sweet reflections,
where is the Woody Guthrie man
to sing the blues to our glories?
This guitar kills fascists, the prophet's guitar made its promise. So,
where are the wire haired highwaymen when we most need them?
Where is the match to Blake's burning bow, to the ribbon of road?
O yes when the gold around your soapy necks
and the discreet metals in your mobile phones
come already blood stained from the
I can't help but think where the fuck is Tarzan
when you really need him, when black massacres
black to feed white greed for the earth's resources?
I can't help but think where the fuck is Buddha boy
when you really need him, when Olympic
burns the world's ozone as it floats over old
Yeah! Where the fuck is Spiderman
when you really, really need him?
jgh©2008
