Daddy had a rant in the shed one night
Goin' off about federal hall
While workin' on the mower
And workin' on a bottle of rum
I passed him a socket, a nine sixteenths
With a three and a quarter inch drive
This is how it was when he was still alive
With a fire in his eye, he let out a cry
"Damn crooks in federal hall
The pricks on the hill
Dont care about you and me
I'll vote for the man
Who gathers the parties
And takes them out to sea
To dump em in the ocean
Where the rest of the garbage goes"
"I've taken time to think about it
The profiteers will raid the gold"
"They're fuckin' with our money son"
With my hat in my hand,
I was taking a stand
I ran for federal hall
Mad at the world and full of grim resolve
I told the old man not to worry,
Not to fret that I intended to be
A man of the people
And he'd be proud of me
Now you won't have to think about it
The profiteers won't raid the gold
"They're fuckin' with our money son"
Twenty years later
I'm a mover and shaker
And banished to federal hall
Playing two bit games
And arguing for nothing at all
Biding my time, nothing on the line
A shadow of what I should be
Now daddy's in heaven
And he ain't proud of me
I've had some time to think about it
My daddy said they'd raid the gold
"They're fuckin' with our money son"
