Happy Thanksgiving
The Parasite (For Buffy) ~Eugene McDaniels~ They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded and trusting
to see through the charms. Ex-hoodlums and jail birds
with backgrounds of crime,
they had a chance to breathe freely
for the very first time,
to drink cool clear water
from clean mountain streams,
when taken for granted it’s not what it seems. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers,
from a far away place.”
I know the Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Slowly but surely
in came the forked the tongue,
to trick those who trusted,
humiliate the young,
they said “Indians are different,
they got to stay in their place,
not pure and holy,
an inferior race.” They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
I know the Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded and trusting
to see through the charms. In came the religions,
the liquor, and the guns,
they claimed to be good guys,
yeah but they acted like huns,
creating chaos, spreading disease,
as agents of god,
they did damn well what they please. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Polluting the water.
god damn, defiling the air.
rewriting the standards
of what’s good, and fair
promote law and order
yeah, just let justice go to hell,
if the laws hard to swallow
use the old wishing well. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Now the suns slowly setting
yes and the Indians are few,
they’ve been murdered and pillaged,
my god, what they’ve been through,
stranded on deserts
where it’s barren and dry,
with bad air and foul water, yeah,
they exist til they die. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them with wide open arms…
(screams of terror…)
More about Eugene McDaniels here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gene_McDaniels
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded and trusting
to see through the charms. Ex-hoodlums and jail birds
with backgrounds of crime,
they had a chance to breathe freely
for the very first time,
to drink cool clear water
from clean mountain streams,
when taken for granted it’s not what it seems. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers,
from a far away place.”
I know the Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Slowly but surely
in came the forked the tongue,
to trick those who trusted,
humiliate the young,
they said “Indians are different,
they got to stay in their place,
not pure and holy,
an inferior race.” They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
I know the Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded and trusting
to see through the charms. In came the religions,
the liquor, and the guns,
they claimed to be good guys,
yeah but they acted like huns,
creating chaos, spreading disease,
as agents of god,
they did damn well what they please. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Polluting the water.
god damn, defiling the air.
rewriting the standards
of what’s good, and fair
promote law and order
yeah, just let justice go to hell,
if the laws hard to swallow
use the old wishing well. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them
with wide open arms,
too simple minded
to see through the charms. Now the suns slowly setting
yes and the Indians are few,
they’ve been murdered and pillaged,
my god, what they’ve been through,
stranded on deserts
where it’s barren and dry,
with bad air and foul water, yeah,
they exist til they die. They landed at Plymouth
with a smile on their face,
they said “We’re your brothers
from a far away place.”
The Indians greeted them with wide open arms…
(screams of terror…)
More about Eugene McDaniels here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gene_McDaniels
