Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I will play the banjo, I will ride a well-broke horse through fields of butterflies, I will be happy.

I hear the crying of the hungry
In the deserts where they're wandering
Hear them crying out for Heaven's own
Benevolence upon them
Hear destructive power prevailing
I hear fools falsely hailing
To the crooked wits of tyrants when they call

I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all

I hear the sounds of tearing pages
And the roar of burning paper
All the crimes in acquisition
Turn to air and ash and vapor
And the rattle of the shackle
Far beyond emancipators
And the loneliest who gather in their stalls

I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all

So, while you sit and whistle Dixie
With your money and your power
I can hear the flowers a-growing
In the rubble of the towers
I hear leaders quit their lyin'
I hear babies quit their cryin'
I hear soldiers quit their dyin', one and all

I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all

I hear the tender words from Zion
I hear Noah's waterfall
Hear the gentle lamb of Judah
Sleeping at the feet of Buddha
And the prophets from Elijah
To the old Paiute Wovoka
Take their places at the table when they're called

I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all
I hear them all, I hear them all, I hear them all

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