There's a fault line
Running right down the middle
Running right down the middle
And it divides and splits
Us from each other
Us from each other
There's an old song
Woody Guthrie sang
"This land is your land
And this land is my land too"
Though it sounds so simple
I dare you to say, "It's not true, babe"
What if it's true, babe?
Fear's an inquiline
Living right in here
Living deep in here
And it takes what it needs
And leaves you gasping
Leaves you hollowed out
There's an old trick
That will break your heart
Tilting at windmills
Believing they're swinging at you
'Til you're trapped in the flag
That you're wrapped in too tight to undo, babe
Your lips are blue, babe
Does it trickle down?
Oh, simmer down
Does it trickle down now?
Beware the prophet in a paper crown
Does the head swim, but the heart drown?
At the shoreline
There are dreams and bodies breaking
Dreams and bodies breaking
And they say not a word
For who would listen?
And who would hear them out?
These are old bones
And they know their worth
Ringing with truth of the struggle
And pain of the birth
Now all of the promise they carried
Returns to the earth, babe
The bleached ash earth, babe
Does it trickle down?
Oh, simmer down
Does it trickle down now?
Beware the prophet in a paper crown
Does the head swim, but the heart drown?
Does it trickle down?
Oh, simmer down
Does it trickle down now?
Beware the prophet in a paper crown
Does the head swim, but the heart drown?
Mighty river
Roll on, roll on
And mighty river
We'll hold on, we'll hold on
