Federal Hall

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"