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Wordmule - Jim White
Your world is in flames there ain't even a name
For the feelings you feel as you watch it all burn
There's a girl in the distance she's calling your name
But the name that she's calling is not your name
She calls
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field
And you can't walk on that water
I know 'cause I tried
It's our spider web-thinking
It's just too heavy with holes
And our thoughts they are made up of red georgia clay
We think we know everything
But man we don't know
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field here come the word-mule
My friends
Look out for hustlers for preachers for shysters
Them silver-tongued saints who pretend to do good
'Cause they're geeks biting chicken-heads off
With their witty rejoinders
They ain't nothing but greasy fast food for:
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field
The word-mule the word-mule
The word-mule
But he's plowing the field
