The
painted skins in the glow
The
newspapers get into the game
Playing
it up to the village folks
While
urban and city folks
Beating
the drums “don't tell us lies!”
In
the neon lights
The
crooks dance away
Smiling
with their monies
They
can do much work with it
The
hangers on will wait
The
crumbs which come their way
Once
they get it
They
will sing the good songs
In
the back doors
The
odour of bad issues
The
painted skins never see
It
is where the bad lived
The
bad will attract the bad
The
evil will magnet evil
As
long as it never changes
We
can never write good songs
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