The Bar

Does everybody in the bar fell pain?
Yeah, sure they do
Does everybody in the bar a little maimed?
Yeah, both me and you
We traded in the family farm for snake-oil
Bought into the carpetbeggar’s lies
Now we’re hanging on this cross
With these feelings of loss
Just watching the liberty boat sail on by

Does everybody in the bar feel shame?
Lord knows, I do
I guess we all feel pretty much the same
Kind of wore out by this crazy fucking zoo
The smell of napalm, with cornflakes
The chafe of killing everything that breathes
Imposing sanctions on the lady down the street
‘Till she takes the hint, and packs her bags, and leaves