The Black Angels - Deer-Ree-Shee

Rain, rain look up in the sky, All you see is yourself Black cloud pointed with trouble Hanging over our nation, and you All dry, are the crop around We will be forced to steal Like Grey Hawk perched up in tree, Waiting for the right kind of thrill (kill), From you Bang, bang your magic is here, White men and God are one? Make us feel like foreigners, Devil’s under our own sun Wait, wait a few are blind, Let’s trade secrets and get along fine Which part of ours is entitled to us? You can’t cross our imaginary lines Trail of Fear and tears to come, Not a dry eye in our tribe All worn down by the power of New Let’s get together and drink until noon Let’s get together and dream Let’s get together and drink until noon How could we stop this force That grew on us? We should have drawn our own lines