Woodrow

Intro: When people twist your words, Woodrow, ah, they'll twist at every whim It's thugs that run the unions now and use your songs like hymns Once, your music danced on women's thighs and the arch of a hobo's brow-ow Aw, Mrs. Guthrie look what they done to your brown-eyed baby now Oh, the trains leave every morning, some go east and some go west And the clacking of the iron is the sound you love the best It's the great escape from railroad bulls and the Coney Island girls Aw, Mrs. Guthrie, look what we done to your brown eyed boy with curls Chorus: Sing the truth, scream it loud (2nd time: sing it loud) Aw, Mrs. Guthrie, look what they done to your brown-eyed baby now (2nd time: we done) All those boxcars full of Chinese junk, the caboose has been junk piled And we're all buying groceries now from men with crooked smiles You were a drunken, wild misogyneer and your politics were crude As you sat home writing nursery rhymes and drawing women nude And all those politicians breaths stink bad, be they left or be they right And the ones who play with rhetoric are not the ones to fight Don't go coming 'round here, Woodrow, they'll stretch you from a rope And your corpse won't ever find a bar where a man can drink and smoke Repeat Chorus Instrumental (chorus) Did you hear the screen door slam, Ma, Woodrow's gone again He's writin' obscene letters now, the Feds might bring him in But every song he ever wrote is hangin' on the breeze With the laundry in the Guthrie yard full of Huntington's disease So, Woodrow, rest in peace, old pal, there ain't nothin' for you here We're in the scrub oak country now, the land of dread an' fear And whitey's in the wood pile and the writing's on the wall But your ring of truth still echoes down the Greystone clinic hall Repeat Chorus So here's to all outsiders, all the ones who could not fit The troubadour, the prisoners, the drunken Indian Ah, the circus freaks, the wounded lovers will make it through somehow Ah, Mrs. Guthrie, we are ridin' blind with your brown eyed baby now Sing the truth scream it loud Ah, Mrs. Guthrie, look what we done to your brown-eyed baby now Sing the truth, scream it loud Ah, Mrs. Guthrie, look what we done to your brown-eyed baby now