Well, I’ll tell you a story
	of whiskey and mystics and men,
And about the believers and
	how the whole thing began.
First there were women and
	children obeying the moon,
Then daylight brought wisdom
	and fever and sickness too soon.
You can try to remind me
	instead of the other, you can.
You can help to insure
	that we all insecure our command.
If you don’t give a listen,
	I won’t try to tell your new hand.
This is it; can’t you see
	that we all have our ends in the band.

And if all of the teachers and
	preachers of wealth were arraigned, 
We could see quite a future
	for me in the literal sands.
And if all the people
	could claime to inspect such regrets,
well, we’d have no forgiveness,
	forgetfullness, faithful remorse.
So I tell you, I tell you,
	I tell you we must send away.
We must try to find a
	new answer instead of a way.