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The Bum's Rush
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Published 4 years ago
THE BUM’S RUSH
c.2003 – Mike Caraway

Underneath God’s own tree, I was just restin peacefully,
When a stick man ordered me to move right now from here,
He accused me of being a threat to his security,
And of being guilty of not goose-steppin in gear,
I said, “My dear Mister Stick Man, I am doin the best I can
To make this planet a place full of true love and good cheer”,
But as I went on my way, I knew I had a new enemy,
Because I just have to say what they don’t want to hear:

CHORUS: A bum steer’s nothin to fear, ‘cause I know who to trust,
And a bum knee doesn’t bother me too much,
I can live with a bum rap or a run of bum luck,
But don’t be givin me, no don’t be givin me
Don’t be givin me The Bum’s Rush.

I’m sent to the pharmacy, where the medicine is far from free,
And can’t protect me from the epidemic of murder,
Doctor of toxic stoned therapy tells me he cannot see me,
He’s at the cell phone company havin his car insured,
And the information reachin me is missin its integrity,
We each pay for the poison, then we’re poisoned by the cure,
To the world health organized thief, proud to lie thru bloodstained teeth,
I say, “I see your carcass laid out where the eagles are gathered”, and

CHORUS

A priest, a teacher, and a reporter float in a lifeboat with me,
When the corporate downsize order’s dropped by a pigeon,
But the priest is needed to show the masses how to worship their own sin,
The teacher’s needed so the kids know which class they are in,
The reporter tells the cartel’s story, the shell game of threats & saviors,
Where slaves are free, and war is glory, where lovers never win,
Now they won’t stop starin at me, saying I ain’t necessary,
I need to show the decency to drop over and swim, I say

CHORUS

I’m sent to the newest show of empty heart and mind control,
Stars flashin motion, but no soul, so cool that I pass out,
In the house and in the car, arena, theater, local bar,
The counterfeits surround me like a friendly hometown crowd,
Sayin, “Forget the good news, lose your livin individuality,
Our substitute reality is all that you’re about”,
But the thugs who run the sham enchantment industry will weep to see
The Son of Man like lightnin shinin, ridin on the clouds, and

CHORUS

Underneath God’s own sky, a bubble woman says that I
Am judgin people just like me, tryin to get thru the day,
But folks like me are beaten, jailed, wrecked & robbed, betrayed & killed,
Exposed, in danger, sleepless, hungry, pushed out of the way,
I say, “My dear Ms. Bubble Woman, I don’t condemn any of those men,
In that drama of hypocrisy, I just hate the part they play”,
Now to those who deny the truth, I’m reachin out as lovin proof,
He saves the lost and broken-hearted, that’s why I can say,

CHORUS
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