TOM PAINE'S BONES Well, the chickens came home to roost last night I saw 'em running up the street between the vapor lights I turned to Tom Paine, I asked him how He said "There's more than King George to worry about now" The fight broke out in the alleyway And landed in the street where the kids all play Now my head is pounding, my gut's in a twist I never would've guessed I'd have to think about this He wants our souls, but he took our heads There's plenty good reason to see him dead But the noose only tightens around our own necks now He's got the voice of God talking through a guitar He's got Tom Paine's bones in the trunk of his car No Reserve! 2 days 8 hours Buy It Now! Well, I wrote to the father and the half-wit son I said "How're you gonna fix all the damage that's done?" They said "Don't worry, buddy! Don't think about that! The air may be thin, but the calf is fat!" So I picked up a shovel and I dug my own grave But the water rose up and swept me away Now I'm clinging to my coffin, looking for land Bobbing and spinning in George's hand He wants our souls, but he took our heads You think there's plenty out there who'd be better off dead But the truth only tightens around our own necks now He's got the voice of God talking through a guitar He's got Tom Paine's bones in the trunk of his car No Reserve! 2 days 8 hours Buy It Now! Well, the chickens came home to roost last night They were floating down the river in the firelight I turned to Tom Paine, but he was gone There're no words left except the words to this song Written by Michael Whyte © Man Bites Dog, BMI (Administered by Bug)