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Bite the Hand

With a little faith we could raise the land

With a little hope we could move as planned

With a little faith we could raise the land

With a little hope we could move as planned

Farm the ghetto up,

Feed the famine down with our nose to the grindstone

Ear to the ground

Find a steady job,

Build a happy home

Farm a steady crop,

Then depose the throne

We could irrigate thirst quenching lake,

Make a fertile place

Thus the desert spake...Spill the feathers up,

Slash the silk might as well stop boo

Shooing over all that spilt milk,

Empty trap, screaming eye,

Seething lip, stop wondering

Why butter mountains here.

Better motivate it`s getting late,

Assassinate the grain, co co co co commotion

Before a global war,

We'd better bridge the oceanJust like an open wound that

Forever bleeds just like an open plain

In scattered seeds or the foolish man

Believing all he reads,

He begs, he pleads.

Songwriters

WHITE, MARK/FRY, MARTIN/SINGLETON, STEPHENPublished by

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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