foxtales

You can have great thoughts
But no one cares
You can dance around the house
In your underwear
You can write rhymes & poems too
You can do anything you want to do
But you can’t make ’em love you
No you can’t make ’em love you
You can’t make ’em love you
Not like you used to do

You can talk about the good old days
Gonna talk about ’em anyways
You can let a soft teardrop fill your jaundiced eye
You can tell ’em that you’ll never say goodbye
And you can roll up a paper and swat at a fly
You can slip off to sleep with an easy sigh
But you can’t make ’em love you
No you can’t make ’em love you
You can’t make ’em love you
Not like you used to do

Every day I become my mother
Give my last dollar to some stranger on the street
Say hello to everyone I meet
Say to the man with the ugly dog,
“Wow, what a pretty dog!”
Say to the woman with the ugly kid,
“Wow, what a pretty kid!”
Then I keep on walking, smiling all the way

You think you can make me angry?
You can’t make me mad
You think you can make me grouchy?
You can’t make me sad

Every day I become my father
Take the long way ’round a story
And always full of jokes
See a guy stuck on the road, but I’m running outta time
“It’s all right, buddy, I got time!”
See a guy, down on his luck
“Here buddy, take this one last dime!”
Then I keep on walking, smiling anyway

You think you can make me angry?
You can’t make me mad
You think you can make me grouchy?
Nah, you can’t make me sad

I love the sound of woodpeckers
Pecking at their holes
I love the thought of Jesus
Saving my wretched soul
I love to think of everyone
Who’s ever even been
Waiting at the window, to tell me of my sin

I’m seeking absolution
I’m breaking mother’s heart
I’m pulling people closer
So I can keep them far apart
I’m sleeping late and walking far
Along these barren dunes
Everyone says “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon”

I love the sound of woodpeckers
Pecking at their holes
I love the thought of Jesus
Saving my wretched soul
I love to think of everyone
Who’s ever even been
Waiting at the window, to tell me of my sin

Well they took the six million
Shoved ’em in the oven
They took the six million
Sent ’em right on up to heaven
So when I hear–
“Them people are taking over”
When I hear
“Our end is coming soon”
I say, “That looks good on you, man
Yeah, it looks good on you to me
I say, it looks real good on you, baby
It looks good on you, I think.”

They took 13 million
Two million died along the way
That leaves about 10 million
10 million turned into slaves
Now they say, “That black man
he wants more than what I got”
Now they say, “That black woman
she got more than what’s in my pot.”
And I say, “That looks good on you, man
Yeah, I think that’s just fine
I say, it looks great on you, friend
You can have mine, anytime.”

They think maybe 12 million
Once called this land home
Last time I checked
I think that number’s down to five
Still a lot of school kids
say, “You’re lucky just to be alive.”
Shoot a toy arrow over their heads
They say, “Bang red man, you’re dead.”
I say, “If you want it back, just take it
We’ve had it long enough
This brown land looks good on you, baby
You can have it, ’cause we’ve fucked it up.”

Yeah, it all looks good to me
Guess that’s all I got left to say
It all looks good to me
I want to give it all away