you never said it was a bed of roses

but you never said it was a bed of nails

you never told me 'bout the rubber hoses

or how unsteady were the justice scales



i need the wild truth



on the street there are a billion people

they got no love, they got no hope

they got no youth, they got no beauty

they're looking backwards through a telescope



they need the wild truth



whatever happened to the man walking down the street

with his hands in his pockets whistling a tune?

science fiction and nostalgia have become the same thing



i don't know how to make any choices anymore i mean,

who do i vote for? i get the feeling that as soon as

something appears in the paper it ceases to be true



i have to meet the man who can crack this world of justice

like a safe. someone with the courage to allow room for

good things to run wild



into the wild truth



we don't need no voodoo stories

from no magic president

who tries to make a dream a fait accompli

by using phantoms for his evidence



we need the wild truth



i tell a hundred thousand lies that twist me

into the noise where i hide my sin

my shame and scandal pull me down and kiss me

i can't live a life that might have been



i need the wild truth



are we supposed to take all this greed and fear and hatred

seriously? it's like watching dust settle it never changes

it's too consistent



mercy is not consistent it's like the wind

it goes where it will. mercy is comic, and its the only

thing worth taking seriously



i need the wild truth