The Priests Of The Golden Bull Lyrics - Coincidence And Likely Stories - Buffy Sainte-marie

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 

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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 

Photos 

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