The Future Is On The March!

I’m talking fascism of course

Top Chef

Musical Guest!

I run a lot of miles of life and crime
Of mountain climbs and quittin’ times
Packing that load of lyin’ rhymes
And tired jokes and wooden dimes
I’ve been everybody’s friend, everybody’s friend

I could lose my house, I could steal a car
I could serve two masters, living hard
Living like a dog in a cage in the hole
With a fist full of cold hard cash and I can’t let go
The devil can’t have my soul, the devil can’t get your soul
The devil can’t get your soul


Hold out your hand
Take hold of mine now
Round and round we go
Don’t you wanna dance
I’m a dying man
From the moment we began
Hold out your hand
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da

The hand comes around and the trumpet sounds
And his number calls and the moment he falls
And the haunted halls of man he will understand
He will comprehend, he will not pretend
He will not pretend

When the rain don’t fall and the river don’t run
And the wind takes orders from the blazing sun
The devil don’t break with a fiery snake
And you handled about goddamn much as you can take
The devil don’t take a break, the devil don’t take a break
The devil don’t take no break


Well it came to my door, there’s so many feuds
Of games and bullets and tensions to heal
A lust for killing, your old man and son
For a careless mistake and a fight lost to God!
(Come on!)
To leave your brother for father’s grief
For the mountains, lay down, or you’ll faint like a sea
When all is covered silver and light
Any color and light but you know you wanna fight!
What a glorious sight!
What a glorious sight!
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da
Ba da da, ba da da, ba da da