They're piling bodies up on the plains
All of the strangers with so many claims and
All that hope served as a warning
Now they're falling like dominoes on a late December morning
Stack up the dead and just leave them
It proves we've got the last word in patriotism
And send the live ones to some western reservation
They've got the wrong coloured skin and ideas above their station

And you're singing holy homeland
While a nation is choking
You smile and say you know we said land of the free?
Yeah well we were just joking

This land is your land
With one roll of the dice and one guiltless command
You're sitting watching TV
Accepting moral direction from a crank shrink with an impressive CV
Your new god is your video screen
Washed up and spun out by and American dream,
Only memories of ghosts that patrol this place
This land, your land is a terminal case

Chorus

And who am I to criticise
From a country with no problems about selling one another
I guess we all have our dirty ink stains on the history books
On the pages on the cover
And at dawn storm clouds disappear the future brings all hope and glory
Ghost dancers rise 500 years
Like there will never be another end to this story

Chorus

See also:
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