The Humming

Coming down off the mountain called Mount Si at North Bend
Crawling out of the cold river to begin The End
Somehow I made my way to Downtown Seattle
And among the downtrodden homeless I joined their battle
Against the cold heartless system enforced by police
As long as we have to pay for food and shelter,
There can never be peace
How free do you really feel after you’ve signed that lease?
Some people would rather live under a bridge in a tent
Than to hand over their government relief check just to pay the rent
When I asked where I could rest my head and eat for free
I was directed to Shoreline and a camp called Tent City Three
Then I discovered that there were undercover FBI
Living among the homeless drifters – I saw through the lie
There was nowhere to sing, to speak, to hide,
Nowhere to even try to get a little high
I witnessed our Brother Afrika in drunkeness sob and cry
And the Native Chiefstick – his spirit took me high up into the sky
After we moved the camp to Seattle near Broadway
I set out on my own to find a better way
Much in need of a brighter day
And landed in Village Ghetto Land on the edge of Federal Way
But here there’s nowhere to sing and drum
Hell, I’m barely even free to fuck or hum
So tired of people born on third base
Acting like they hit a goddamn home run
The apartment management said the Native had to go
After recording our natural rock songs toe to toe
We parted ways
We were drunken rebel rockers with the deepest soul
Now he’s back in Montana but still I roll
All alone I flow through the danger zone
Daydreaming of secret places back east
Where I plan to roam, camp out, and smoke a bone
There’s no way in Hell I’m gonna be transformed
Into some kind of obedient drone
And I don’t fall in love on the telephone


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