A Political song from Greg. Greg played the Bass, Synth Bass, Vocals, Programmed the drums.
Paul provided rhythm and lead guitars.
REPUBLICAN RAP by Greg Hafner<
You treat your workers like servants,
And don’t understand why they’re pissed.
You deny the struggling a living,
While making money hand over fist.
You suck up all of the privilege,
You tell others to go without.
Selfish minds support you,
Not understanding what you’re all about.
Your fortune feeds off the masses,
So you can live at the top.
Taking much more than giving,
Gold/power is all that you want.
You send the poor to countries,
That hate our predator ways,
To destroy and die for money,
Not peace or happier days.
Promoting guns for profit,
You guarantee us the right,
To kill the living for pleasure,
And threaten each other at night.
Don’t care about trees or flowers,
A park’s where you throw your trash.
So full is your ivory tower,
It’s there that you hoard your cash.
Gay, black, brown, or yellow,
Don’t belong in your personal space.
Just straight Judeo-Christian,
Born with a Caucasian face.
This is the age,
Balding and beige,
Where are they leading us to?
Why don’t they care about you?
This is an Alternate Version of my tune, “Knee Deep In The Swamp of the Nebulous”.
This Version is in a different key, Just Paul on Acoustic Guitar and Vocals,
Greg on bass
(The Electric Version of Knee Deep is at my website: http://www.paulwoodsong.com)
Knee Deep, In the Swamp of the Nebulous- Paul Woodsong
Mostly Cloudy, & patchy fog.
Chance of rain, all day long.
Into the night, it will be.
Mainly raining. Time for tea.
Time for whatever, life requires.
Try to fulfill, Our mind’s desire.
Our body’s ocean, of human need.
A Secret potion, say the creed.
Knee Deep, in the swamp, of the nebulous.
Every step taken, will be dangerous.
Watch, as you gaze, upon the precipice.
Life is on the line, make your exodus.
Life is illusive, what’s to gain?
What is lost, causes pain.
What’s needed, try to find.
Escape from a shattered mind.
Way back where, we came from.
Follow the path, of the bread crumbs.
Back home, the old humdrum.
Knee deep in the swamp of the nebulous.