It’s not ideas or discontent.
It’s an empty stomach.
It’s not an ism of any kind.
It’s a decent place to live
And we’re willing to die for it.

It’s not being told what to want.
It’s choosing for ourselves.
It’s not someone else’s agenda.
It’s a way of life
And we live and die for it.

Who is in the seats of power deciding,
Knowing better the things to want?
Remove them to the dunce’s chair,
Out of the way in their tall white hats.

Trade them for something to eat,
For the little things we want.
Remove them to the dunce’s chair,
Out of the way in their tall white hats.

It’s not the party line.
It’s the desolation of an empty table.
It’s losing faith in our fellow man,
In our fathers and mothers,
In a better life for our sons and daughters.

Who is in the seats of power deciding,
Knowing better the things to want?
Remove them to the dunce’s chair,
Out of the way in their tall white hats.

From the seats of power deciding,
Remove them to the dunce’s chair –
Out of the way in their tall white hats

To the dunce’s chair.
Out of the way
In their tall white hats.