What mysteries flow through these white folk's blood?
What secrets do they hide within?
What sickbed words pass across their lips?
And what passions lie beneath their skin?
Are their fortunes made in their pool halls?
And there lives played out like children's games?
Under the summer sun with a knife and a gun
A Festered wound never heals
On the back porch, in the pawn shops
Dusting off their fathers' guns
Words like worms crawl through their brains
Sermons fly from the preacher's mouth
But the auction block still remains
Gagged and tied to a tree trunk
After a fox hunt chase with dogs and chains
In a field of white in the broad daylight
The earth is black, black with blood
They were friends and they were brothers
Life goes on across the railroad tracks
A flood of tears has come and gone
Autumn comes, white folks settle down
And the preacher quotes from Luke and John
And there is peace and plenty in the country
And the way we are, we will remain
The world keeps spinning round and around
Just keep spinning around and around and around
Everything is still the same
Life goes on
Like before, on the streets
On the porches in our homes in our towns
What we see all around us.
Life goes on
Like before while we sit by the doorway