"GIVE THE ANARCHIST A CIGARETTE" [2012]


Give the anarchist a cigarette

Give my grandfather his medicine

Give the hurricane hurt a megaphone to point at God

Give the mayor his yearly one dollar

Give the street sweeper bleach for his collar

Give the Syrian saints a megaphone to point at God

 

Give Tompkins Square Park clean needles

Give all babies the sound of The Beatles

Give Armstrong a yellow megaphone to point at God

 

Give the anarchist a cigarette

And some firewood, so he can light it

Give the Bible Belt a new megaphone to point at God

‘Cause they need it!

Give the president the name of each victim

Tell him planes don’t have hearts, and won’t miss them

It takes human hands to feel

The weight of a gun

 

Give the people in charge perspective

Unless it’s money—not votes—that elect them

And if that’s the case

Then we’ll all need bigger megaphones

 

Give me four new chords to start strumming

I don’t wanna keep rippin’ off Dylan

I got more ideas in my head

Than my hands can play

But I always feel like no one is listening

Like the internet’s a bowl that we piss in

With shitty pop music and worthless videos of cats

 

How I hate where things are headed

How many storms till the politicians get it?

That if the waters keep rising

There’ll be no elections to win

How I hate where things are headed

How many wars till the masters all get it?

There’s so much to fix, it's hard to know

Where to begin