Hunger in the Heartland
6/09/2003
by Lorne Clarke copyright 2003

We welcome your comments.

Bar room TV on the wall
Millionaires are playing ball
Somebody's probably winning but no one cares
Suddenly they interrupt the game
The President's face fills up the screen
Barkeep turns the sound up
So everyone can hear

Lips are moving under empty eyes
But nobody's buying his pack of lies
The only one who could afford to now is the local auctioneer
His words are lost in the wind that blows
'cross fallow fields, past empty silos
and the flags that sprout from the pick-up trucks
at every farm 'round here

Can you hear their voices cry
The farmer's kids go hungry tonight
While bloated politicians run the roads

'Cause every farmer knows and it's a fact
That when bullshit spews from a horse's ass
It's time to pull your boots on and tighten up your belt
And cover your back with armour plate
To save yourself from corruption's blade
And the velvet glove of bureaucratic love
Though they're only trying to help

Bar room TV on the wall
Millionaires are playing ball
Somebody's probably winning but no one cares
Suddenly they interrupt the game
The President's face fills up the screen
Barkeep turns the sound up
So everyone can hear

Can you hear their voices cry
The farmer's kids go hungry tonight
While bloated politicians run the roads
Can you hear their voices cry
The farmer's kids go hungry tonight
While bloated politicians run the roads
 

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