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The thinkers and the doers are being trampled by the sheep
Who stampede to the slaughterhouse with righteous surety
For the danger’s not the butcher, it’s he who warns them of their fate
And no one is hated more than he who causes the sleepwalkers to awake


So perhaps I should lay down my pen
Lay down my head
And cry awhile
This curse of vision will make you insane I fear


The pontiff and the president dance slowly in the dark
They whisper their sweet promises of death till do us part
They go to the doctor of psychiatry to cure their co-dependency
He says for a marriage of convenience there can never be divorce


So turn down your cannons
Lay down your cross
I can no longer tell these things apart
And all lovers must consubstantiate



I stood at my mother’s gravesite with a hammer in my hand
I stole sawdust from the sawmill and threw a flame into the wind
I walked a noble savage through the Wal-Mart until he fell upon his knees
I gave shelter to a rich man, the poor child I showed the door


Cause freedom is as freedom does
And let no man be the wiser here
The shackles of the breadline make each man bow his head down low


I walked through the orchard down in Eden but my stomach it was full
I met a woman named Athena with her children by her side
I took her to the alter, made her my bride and then my wife
I abandoned her in Portland but I guess it was alright


I laid down my hat
I laid down my gun
I don’t have the will to run no more
And this gift of gab will make you a monster I am told


Jesus sat down at my table and took a Camel from his smock
He lit it with a burning bush and with a smirk he said
Sometimes a soul can be so shrunken that the eye of a needle isn’t small
And these days inheriting the Earth doesn’t seem such a good offer after all


I poured him a drink
He gave me a wink
We made a toast to the wind, the sky, prostitutes and vagabonds
We’re all God’s children after all he said

I walked into the hospital and told the nurse to medicate
She looked into my eyes and said my ailment it was plain
But the witchdoctor and the voodoo priest were on the golf course for the day
Then she lifted up her skirt and cradled my head upon her breast
She asked if my insurance would cover this and pay


She showed me the light
She showed me the sea
Show showed me re-runs on her cable TV
Sometime blood is thinner than the air we breathe

Now the sheep are in a frenzy, they smell the prophet in the wind
The run to the farmer for protection, behind the chopping block they hide
But the prophet he is weary, he’s been stoned too many times
And when the sheep they get their hackles up to protect conformity
Even the wolf will run for shelter in the forest dark and wild


I’ll lay down my heart
I’ll lay down in my grave and die awhile
This gift of vision makes you a pariah to the plebeians