All I ever wanted was hand to mouth.
To live off the land somewhere in the south.
To have a little garden and a child or two.
And a little lady sayin’ I Love You.
Here I am waiting tables, my shift is hardly through.
Yeah, yeahy
There’s indians in picture books dancin’ for the rain.
There’s pioneers in rowboats off the coast of Spain.
They’re chasing down the buffalo, falling manly in the plain.
Being held by mother earth and calling her by name.
Only the seven-eleven’s open, I got pockets full of change.
Do you remember back when dinner took all day.
When grandma played the banjo and you’d sit and sway.
When night was lit by lamplight and the flicker of flame.
And ten miles was quite a ways.
I got a slurpee and a hotdog and a long look on my face.
I hear the revolution’s still being fought it’s not too late.
I hear that revolution is a return to a previous state.
Either by the hippies who only take what they need
or by those who pollute the world with their greed.
I shall be delivered my dream indeed.