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letra de bootleggers and baptists - fred rand

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safe in the cradle and handed your lunch
living off loot of the diligent bunch
a whimpering pundit, you call for amends by the fed
ent-tled the luxury of being red

crying for justice, it’s easy to do
when safe in the womb that’ll keep you from doom
a thousand mothers with raving historical score
each one a dependant and desperate wh0r-

praising the guns you never have to hold
content with leaving them out in the cold
clutched in the hands of the zealots that barter your faith
dead sure they’ll never be pointing your way

meanwhile they let you on
oh, how they let you on
that the peace you crave is prospering under a different throne

then you wonder and you cry
why the baptists heed the bootlegger call
why the violence, why the hate
you’re the reason, you’re the bait

a flash in the gutter on your own street
a flash disarming the hands that greet
you scream at the blood but don’t know where it’s coming from
and seek for a cure in benevolent law

put lids on all things that you don’t want to see
put gag on all those who you don’t want to hear
you gamble the ballot, hope for trigger bans that you crave
so don’t you complain when your words are empaled

you’re so proud to make a fuss
proud when somebody hails your cuss
you’re an idle leech appealing to mobs that deal your bread

then you wonder and you cry
why the baptists heed the bootlegger call
why the violence, why the hate
you’re the reason, you’re the bait

and still you writhe upon
the wars and famine going on
but the sums you add derive from the same panopticon

borderline guards, deficit overlords
withdrawing the hands that have started the war
in pride and not give in to that they failed their creed
you blindly hang onto your faith in their deed

scorning the brownshirts in fear to be caught
with seeing in the mirror your common onslaught
of divine intervention, poetic hegelian stance
an equity shangri-la at your command

a lord that provides you with all that you need
could later as well seize all of your yield
exchanging your goods for the blood of the undertow
exchanging the millions of lives for your goal

confusing the freedom with means to gain
with leverage over a public domain
granting the baptizing vultures access to your soul
and granting their waste of you hard-earned gold

then you wonder and you cry
why the baptists heed the bootlegger call
why the violence, why the hate
you’re the reason, you’re the bait

don’t you cry now, it’s your want
you’re the baptist in the bootlegger ward
you’re the violence, you’re the hate
you’re the reason, you’re the state

it’s your country, it’s your land
you’re the baptist holding the bootlegger hand
may you suffer under law
of your ideals, of your awe

- fred rand

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