Baptist Preacher

I wanna be a baptist preacher
So I don't have to work
So I can go down to the jailhouse
And tell all of the clerks

They should let my friends out of their pens
And come down to the show
Where we can sing a song together
Least, the words that you know

I tell you so, oh
Whoa!

I wanna be a school yard teacher
And learn them kids to read
And give 'em all the tools they need
To grow up strong and thus succeed

In this strange world which we live in
So full of hated lust and greed
Just like the crooked politicians
Who twist the rules until they bleed

I sow the seed and bail the hay
And cut the corn, and grow the crop
And mail the tapes to all the record shops
And hope that this shit pops

So I can call all of my friends
Sayin', "we made it to the top"
Well, just hang out all day telling stories
So, they singing songs until we drop

And I'm gonna call my mom and pop
Tell them that they can finally stop
Dragging their asses down to work
Turn in them keys and close up shop

Because their little baby boy
Has finally grown into a man
He's doing everything he can
He's travelin' far across the land

Through the sea upon a barge
And through the air inside a plane
With his feet he's walking with his feet
Straight through this pouring rain

You know that they always say
The more things change
The more they stay the same
You could be born five hundred times
Different faces and different names

But you're still stuck here tryin' to chase
Those things you always liked to taste
Like faith, or grace, or blood, or love, or drugs
Like cigarettes and H

We get confused and oft'n forget
That our wants are not our needs
Its just a symptom of our
Sick sad twisted humanist disease

And this strange planet that we live on
Made of dirt and rocks and trees
Well, I'd give it all up in a second
If I truly could be free!