You with the jaundiced eyes,
Drunk on your own reflection
Propped up with desks and flags,
Eight chairs short of perfection
Your lines drawn here, there and everywhere
None of your own volition
Unrecognized your paste and your shadow
Stripped of all your definition
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Until your whereabouts are known to me
You've been abused and cheated,
Shat on you're beyond defeated
Those who rise stand in your name,
Then treat you roughly once they're seated
Your pen in one, the sword in the other
Satisfied the blessing is given
In God they trust only their way one way
Afraid of the other isms
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Until your whereabouts are known to me
The grass it is always greener
Under western skies
But your Norman Rockwell nation's
Being choked by weeds and vines
Looky here the old grey mare
She ain't what she used to be, oh no
Looky here the old grey mayor
He's all he's cracked up to be
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Scour the house, flip the wig,
Shake the tree,
Until your, until your, until your
Whereabouts are known to me
Your whereabouts are known to me
Your whereabouts are known to me
Your whereabouts are known
Your whereabouts are known
Your whereabouts are known
