Jerry Jeff Walker - The Ballad of the Hulk lyrics

rate me

The cycle of life is here

To see in all of its fine simplicity

But the way we live it seems to be,

Something very weird to me

And I cry out

For pettiness like lady's chatter

Seems to complicate the matter

I grit my teeth as my senses chatter

For nothing gets me much madder

As I leap out

For big or little, great or small,

It really doesn't matter at all

The way we shuffle our feet and hem and haw,

'Cause everybody's afraid they'll fall

Or else be left out

But what's right for me or strange to you

Shouldn't make a damn on what you do

'Cause whether or not you make it through,

I thought that you already knew

That I'll keep you going

And the World War III and the World Series

Will make the same size headlines in the news

From all I've seen of politics,

It's just a greasy big money stick

That's geared to run on tongues

So slick to make you think this is all there is

Boy you're lucky (You're stuck with Humphrey)

How they con the little middle man

Into thinkin' he has got a hand

To play in the future of the Promised Land,

he owes himself to the destiny of man

Gets ridiculous

A cheap gangster hires someone

To do his dirty work with a tommy gun

While the President just points at anyone

And says "I, your country needs some killing done

Go do it now boy"

The war itself is bad enough,

It can break you down no matter how tough

But the tragedy of all the hoopla stuff,

It makes you think you can't do enough

For the shiny symbols

And the other countries feel the same as we

And regret that I have but one country to give for my life

The preacher stands in his holy shroud sayin'

"God forgives you if you do it now"

But if you come back when the chips are down,

You'll find they've all gone underground

To pray for you

A homosexual, disturbed priest feels that he can preach to me

The right way to go and raise a family

And I'm forced to look at him and say "you mean

You're guessin"

The population is getting higher,

The poverty poor, the pregnant tired

Are waiting on the Pope to be inspired

For some new contraceptive attire

Saying "It's cool now"

It's a ghost behind a one-way mirror

Listening tip-toed at the door to hear

If someone outside won't speak the year

Then they'll slip a note out how they feel

About pierced ear-lobes

But the rules made now

For the changing cows

Are a little late

And will be out of date by tomorrow

Her mother placed on virginity

Saying it was the holy place to be

For the things boys had were evilry

When it came time for matrimony

She froze and died there

Her sister at fourteen very well known thought all the kicks came lying there prone

But a fundamental fact not spoken at home left her feeling like a chewed on bone

And why she wondered

One chick who dug moving about, very liberal minded and often spoke out

How she was cool and understood no doubt with the blankets up and the lights turned out

And you're condescending

A couple together for five or six years,

A marriage license they'd never been near

But social pressure and loss of job fear

Got them married and divorced in half a year

They couldn't cut it

It's all talked about

But still it's lived around

And what is right for me

Could be perversity in any state law book

I'm told a minstrel at one time w

As allowed to sing and make his rhymes

To comment on the news of the times

And say directly what's in people's minds

And he made tips for it

But today try playing on some street curb,

Singin' the news in everyday words

The people pass by, the laughin' is heard

Or else they hit you where it hurts

They keep their ears closed

One man said "Boy, I dig your stuff,

I want you to come play in my club

I'll put your name in lights up above,

But just remember I got a club to run

So don't be too strong"

It ain't your writers who sell out,

It's the damn censors who turn about

My life learned adjectives and vowels

And say that my mouth is much too foul

To clearly speak to you

But try to hit a nail and if the hammer fails

Then the words you use to describe

That bruise is basic language

I hoboed around and sang the songs

That everybody knew and hummed along

To amuse myself I wrote some songs, talkin'

About things that could be right or wrong

And I'm a little different

A record company you know well wanted to know if my song would sell

I said, "Yes, I like it very well,

If you don't sir, you can go to help"

Somebody else change

So I kept playin' and bummin' around, singin'

To the ones who dug my sound

Some guys ask "Won't you play my town",

I ask fair bread they put me down

Their Caddie's mortgaged

Tried one deal, like "it's you and me",

This guy said he could be of some use to me

But when I found he's puttin' screws to me,

I tipped my hat and made it back to the street

Singin' new folk songs

If there's time enough,

The hill ain't too rough

What I wrote today,

I might someday play,

And make tips for it