odds they play throwin' stones? [color:green]commissars and pin-striped bosses role the dice Any way they fall guess who gets to pay the price. Money green or proletarian gray, selling guns instead of food today. So the kids they dance, they shake their bones While the politicians throwing stones Singing ashes, ashes all fall down. Heartless powers try to tell us what to think If the spirit's sleeping, then the flesh is ink. History's page, it is thusly carved in stone The future's here, we are it, we are on our own.