**Play Song**

A Weapon of Our Destruction

Uncle Sam, why can't you see
That you ain't gonna keep no one free
If you sing that same old song
About how everybody else is wrong
And when I think about what you begun
It makes me sad what has become.

Oh, please don't let America
Be that weapon of our destruction.

Them rich boys that you be dancing for
Yes, them's the ones always wantin more
Uncle Sam, when are you gonna see
Them rich boys just can't have no one free
Why can't your people hear the sound
Of their freedom crashin down.

Oh, please don't let America
Be a tool of our own destruction.

Let me tell you bout them good old boys
They've led us on with just a bunch of toys
And now they have us all in line
And tied right up to a dollar sign
You might think you are really free
But them good'ol boys rewrote your guarantee.

Them good'ol boys would make America
Their tool for our destruction.

Now it looks like Uncle Sam done fell asleep
And all his folks just turned to sheep
Them rich boys, got him on a string
And he just sings the song he's told to sing
And things will just go right on being wrong
So long as we just tag along.

Oh please don't let America
Be a weapon of our destruction.

 

Copyright © 2007. Ed Gnaedinger