Good morning, America, don’t stand close to me
The fires in the cellar and the sails have caught the breeze
They promised you a river, they promised you a flood
We ain’t got no bullets but we’re still aiming the gun
Good morning, America, don’t touch anything
Mama’s pearls and Grandma’s furs are locked up in the safe
We were plaid in fever when they promised you the sun
Now we’re headed west ’cause our feet are caked in mud
Good morning, America, let me see your hands
Keep ’em where I see ’em and slowly walk the path
They promised you a reason, they promised you the world
But it’s hard to get a word in when a knee’s upon your throat
Hey Mama, can you hear the coming of the breeze?
The devil’s in the details or so it seems to be
They promised you a garden, they promised you some roots
Hold me in your armchair and gimme a little truth
Good morning, America, do you remember me?
The truck is in the carpark and the rent is hard to meet
They promised you a ribbon, they promised you a cure
But when the wind ain’t blowing, baby, it’s time for us to go
The rebels stormed the White House, they were baited on the word
Climbing walls and walking halls, the same I walked with Mels
The building was indifferent and it opened up the door
“Come in,” they said, “I’ll give ya shelter from the storm”
Shelter from the storm
They promised you a river and they promised you a flood
We ain’t got no bullets but we’re still aiming the gun
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