Nation of One

CROW, CLAWS, Gort Busters, Ghost Shirts
Call us what you will
we have a gap to fill
while dying tribes behold the stars
McMansionCities house Their McCars

spreading the cancer of industry and greed
that makes our holy muddy waters bleed
with primordial instincts I clearly see
our world's been rearranged
I've forgotten what I used to be

in a dream all the colors changed
so whatever your color, whatever your tone
we're all grandchildren of the same bone
but we need a place to feel the beat
a basement where we can stomp our feet

refugees gathering around police stations
we're just too far gone to fear it
we're each the first and last of our nations
subject only to the Great Spirit*
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Great Spirit ===> The Great Mysterious ===> Wakan Tanka
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