What Fresh Hell?

I was just over at Termites of Sin,

and got so cross

i had to do something

for the silent minority.






I hear the crying of the hungry

In the deserts where they're wandering

Hear them crying out for Heaven's own

Benevolence upon them

Hear destructive power prevailing

I hear fools falsely hailing

To the crooked wits of tyrants when they call



I hear them all

I hear them all

I hear them all



I hear the sounds of tearing pages

And the roar of burning paper

All the crimes in acquisition

Turn to air and ash and vapor

And the rattle of the shackle

Far beyond emancipators

And the loneliest who gather in their stalls



I hear them all

I hear them all

I hear them all



So, while you sit and whistle Dixie

With your money and your power

I can hear the flowers a-growing

In the rubble of the towers

I hear leaders quit their lyin'

I hear babies quit their cryin'

I hear soldiers quit their dyin', one and all



I hear them all

I hear them all

I hear them all



I hear the tender words from Zion

I hear Noah's waterfall

Hear the gentle lamb of Judah

Sleeping at the feet of Buddha

And the prophets from Elijah

To the old Paiute Wovoka

Take their places at the table when they're called



I hear them all

I hear them all

I hear them all



I hear them all



I hear them all