Give It Time

Give It Time (Alternative Version)

Live From Freedom Hall

Tuesday’s Gone

They shake your hand, they wink and smile
Sellin’ lust and lies in every aisle
Politicians in their fancy suits
But we’re the sheep that follow their boots

Money, power, sex on display
We cheer them on, yeah we pay to play!

Sheep in suits, dancing for the crown
We bang our heads while they tear it down
Sheep in suits, we lick their boots
Love, sex, and power… follow the loot!


Backroom deals and cocktail thrills
Hot blondes, red wine, political kills
We all nod, we all obey
Chasing pleasure, while they make the play


Money, power, sex on display
We cheer them on, yeah we pay to play!


Sheep in suits, dancing for the crown
We bang our heads while they tear it down
Sheep in suits, we lick their boots
Love, sex, and power… follow the loot!


Raise your glass, bite your lip
Power’s a game, we all trip
In bed, in streets, on the floor
The world’s a stage, we beg for more


Sheep in suits, dancing for the crown
We bang our heads while they tear it down
Sheep in suits, we lick their boots
Love, sex, and power… follow the loot!


Follow… the loot… (bang your head…)
Sheep… in suits… (never stop…)
Love… and power… (scream it loud…)

Sheep in Suits.wav


Early morning, coffee in my hand
The toaster’s glowing, I can’t understand
Pop! Goes the bread, smoke fills the air
Alarm’s screaming like it just doesn’t care

Screaming at the toaster, it’s out of control
Burnt edges flying, smoke on a roll
Screaming at the toaster, my breakfast fight
Chaos in the kitchen, morning’s not right

Press the lever down, it’s just a machine
Why does it hate me? Why so mean?
Charcoal crumbs on the countertop
I’m waving a towel, can’t make it stop

Screaming at the toaster, it’s out of control
Burnt edges flying, smoke on a roll
Screaming at the toaster, my breakfast fight
Chaos in the kitchen, morning’s not right

Screaming at the toaster, it’s out of control
Burnt edges flying, smoke on a roll
Screaming at the toaster, my breakfast fight
Chaos in the kitchen, morning’s not right


Write Me a Few Lines

Seasick Steve

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