Well, I’ll tell you a story

of whiskey and mystics and men,

And about the believers and

how the whole thing began.

First there were women and

children obeying the moon,

Then daylight brought wisdom

and fever and sickness too soon.

You can try to remind me

instead of the other, you can.

You can help to insure

that we all insecure our command.

If you don’t give a listen,

I won’t try to tell your new hand.

This is it; can’t you see

that we all have our ends in the band.



And if all of the teachers and

preachers of wealth were arraigned,

We could see quite a future

for me in the literal sands.

And if all the people

could claime to inspect such regrets,

well, we’d have no forgiveness,

forgetfullness, faithful remorse.

So I tell you, I tell you,

I tell you we must send away.

We must try to find a

new answer instead of a way.