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The Lonely Wild
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Banks and Ballrooms
So you can't believe the night when
She says you're on fire
In an empty street.
Even the moon says she's a star
When she's staring white
With the sunlight.
And you and I are of the same dust,
And we both watch
the great parade.
But you grew up and learned the tune
Of the marching band,
you fell in line.
Then you built each other churches
So you could draw
some line of truth.
In the banks and in the ballrooms
What you say ain't what you do.
And it's the strangest thing—
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The few, the small,
the judge and jury.
The richest men carry the country
Straight to it's grave.
Now we've been wronged
And we've been had
Another day, here
in the promised land.
You've done no wrong.
You should be mad.
This ain't the good life
That you worked to have.
This ain't the good life
And I will take anything
That the morning brings.
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