A million young poets Screamin' out their words To a world full of people Just livin' to be heard Future generations Ridin' on the highways that we built
Well I lived on the outskirts of town In an eight room farmhouse, baby When my brothers and friends were around There was always somethin' doin' Had
Dear Mr. President I live in the suburbs It's a long way from Washington , D.C. Had me a job Workin' for wages Till the company moved out And they forgot
In the shadows of the smokestacks Through the black snow that lay on the land Walked home one winter morning With my life's savings in my hand Maryanne
One man Does his work He's not satisfied Not at all Feels like That he is being used His self respect starts to fall His frustration Runnin' very very
Drivin' down on a dry summer's day Old Route 66 and I was just a kid Met a pretty little Indian girl Along the way Got her into my car And tried to give
She had a dream And boy it was a good one So she chased after her dream With much desire But when she got too close To her expectations Well the dream
Suzanne divorced her husband She got the keys to the car and the home But her friends were really his friends No one stops by to see her much anymore
Got my hands on a little bit of dough So I went to the grocery store And got some steaks to go Went by and picked up my gal, Teddi Jo We had ourselves
If you're feelin' shut down May my thoughts be with you If you're a black man bein' beat down and shoved all around May my thoughts be with you If your