Father fell victim to the demagogue
Shouting and cursing at the wind
He’s afraid, he’s always been
Cowering behind some blinds to cast the blame
My father fell victim to the demagogue
And Saturday he came home with a gun
Quoting lines in others words
As if a bird’s verbatim sing could sway my belief
Like some gypsy man
He gonna hit the streets
To roam as a hurricane
In the middle of the eye
A quiet riot through town to the countryside, alright
My father fell victim to the demagogue
One drink and then so many more
He’s ashamed, he’s at war
With the thoughts that clutch his mind to no avail
Out on the avenue
An engine screams as loud as an aeroplane
In a Chevy, riding cool
That gypsy man is gonna run like the outer winds of the fringe
Ride on...
Gonna tell him ride on, ride on
Can you tell him ride on?
Ride on!
So I tell him ride on, ride on...
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