Who brought the bomb wrapped up in business cards -and stained with steak?
Who hires a maid to wash his money?
Who keeps politicians on the take?..
Who puts outspoken third-worlders in jail -Just to shut them down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the truth is still the same,
Even in this town..
Money junkies all over the world
Trample us on their way to the bank
They run in every race..
Windego
Third-worlders see it first: The dynamite, the dozers, the cancer and the acid rain
The corporate caterpillars come into our backyards
-And turn the world to pocket change
Reservations are the nuclear frontline;
Uranium poisoning kills..
We're starving in a handful of gluttons
We're drowning in their gravy spills..
Their tongues are silver forks
There's a lack of wisdom,
You can hear it on their breath
Windego..
It's delicate confronting these priests of the golden bull
They preach from the pulpit of the bottom line
Their minds rustle with million dollar bills..
You say Silver burns a hole in your pocket
And Gold burns a hole in your soul..
Well, uranium burns a hole in forever
It just gets out of control..
There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile
He raised a crooked sixpence to hide a crooked style
He won a crooked vote and smiled a crooked smile..
Windego..
Their tongues are silver forks
There's a lack of wisdom,
You can hear it on their breath
Windego..
Who hires a maid to wash his money?
Who keeps politicians on the take?..
Who puts outspoken third-worlders in jail -Just to shut them down?
Oh the lies vary from place to place but the truth is still the same,
Even in this town..
Money junkies all over the world
Trample us on their way to the bank
They run in every race..
Windego
Third-worlders see it first: The dynamite, the dozers, the cancer and the acid rain
The corporate caterpillars come into our backyards
-And turn the world to pocket change
Reservations are the nuclear frontline;
Uranium poisoning kills..
We're starving in a handful of gluttons
We're drowning in their gravy spills..
Their tongues are silver forks
There's a lack of wisdom,
You can hear it on their breath
Windego..
It's delicate confronting these priests of the golden bull
They preach from the pulpit of the bottom line
Their minds rustle with million dollar bills..
You say Silver burns a hole in your pocket
And Gold burns a hole in your soul..
Well, uranium burns a hole in forever
It just gets out of control..
There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile
He raised a crooked sixpence to hide a crooked style
He won a crooked vote and smiled a crooked smile..
Windego..
Their tongues are silver forks
There's a lack of wisdom,
You can hear it on their breath
Windego..
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(1) Peter H. Eichstaedt, If You Poison Us: Uranium and Native Americans. Santa Fe, New Mexico: Red Crane Books, 1994.