Everyman (for Himself)
© 1995 Watunes (BMI)
(From "Folk Heroes")
(spoken)
On November 9th, 1994, the morning after the election, I returned to my polling place to find the mangled remains of the American liberal buried under a conservative landslide. Male or female or black or white, I couldn't tell. But I knew it was a liberal because the heart was still on the sleeve and the knees were still jerking. Well, now the ashes have been scattered, though not as scattered as the liberal when he was alive... and the conservatives have come to power and things are changing. There's a new show on PBS called "Mister Rogers' Gate-Guarded Community." And the conservatives themselves are changing... they're morphing. They're the Mighty Morphin Power Brokers. And they're wearing the power ties, and they're taking the power lunches, but you know, the one thing that they've been missing up to this point, is a power ballad...
(sung)
When your heart is heavy
When the night has been too long
When every road you choose
Muddies up your shoes
And leads you wrong
When you're cold and lonely
When your rope is at its end
When darkness clouds the skies
And tears fill your eyes
When you just need a friend
Don't look at me
Wipe your own damn nose
And if I've kept you down or made you cry
Or trampled all your hopes and dreams
Well, that's the way it goes
In heaven there's no hate or war
In heaven no one's hungry or poor
In heaven they hold hands evermore
But we're on earth
And here on earth
It's everyman for himself
When you're a Black, Chicano, Native-American, Jewish lesbian folk singer
And this morning when you woke up you hit your head on the steering wheel
You're shoulder deep in shit
And you just wanna quit
I know how you can get a handgun without the usual background check
Get off my lawn
Pay your rent on time
And if I hire illegals to build a wall around my property
It's just 'cause I'm
Tough on crime
In heaven there's no fear or need
In heaven no one's rabid with greed
In heaven you get laid guaranteed
But we're on earth
And here on earth
It's everyman for himself
'Cause there's a hot wind a'blowin'
Can't you feel it?
It's blowin' hard!
So, where's your national pride, brother?
Where's your national I.D. card?
(spoken)
And even as we send the American liberal off to the great society in the sky, we await the day when he'll be joined by his friends, the literate and the tolerant... when all the frivolous arts and sciences are replaced by nationwide network of publicly-funded putting greens... the government at the people, and above the people, and in spite of the people shall not perish, but that certain people shall... and until then, my friends...
(sung)
It's every man for himself!