Words and music by Thom Carter. Copyright Self Released Records 2012. All rights reserved.
Well I went down to the river, to feel the water on me,
And I went down to the river, to feel the water on me,
I went down to the river, but I just can’t seem to drink,
So I went down to the river, to see what I could see,
And I went down to the river, to see what I could see,
I went down to the river, but I couldn’t see in front of me,
So I stepped down to the river, stepped down to the deep,
So I stepped down to the river, stepped down to the deep,
I stepped down to the river, and the river stepped over me.
Now I go where the river goes,
Now I go where the river goes,
I don’t care where it takes me, just as long as it don’t take no time to go,
Take me to a doctor,
Take me to a priest,
I don’t want your kind of medicine,
I don’t want your crucifix,
‘Cause no man, no woman gonna bring me to my knees,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
Can’t you tell, can’t you tell, that’s what they want.
So I learned how to keep talking, when there’s nothing underneath,
And I learned how to say nothing, when I really want to speak,
I don’t know if this is getting through, if you can even hear me?
Cigarette burning in a forest fire,
A big wolf’s knocking at the door,
A little pigs dancing with a millionaire,
Who made a million out of pork,
Television blaring through a padlocked door,
Neighbours are digging out a grave,
The cats are talking and the tide is high,
I don’t wanna get swept away,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
Can’t you tell, can’t you tell, that’s what they want.
So I went down to the river to see what I could see,
And I went down to the river to see what I could see,
But I could never see the river in the place where the river should have been,
Polka-dot dresses and a black beret,
Skeletons are hanging from your ears,
I seen a hundred car crashes and a bill unpaid,
I got no hair left on my head,
Writing out a novel on a cracked sea-shell,
Banging with a biscuit on a drum,
I’m riding eight fat tigers on the back of a whale,
That’s got no clothes to keep him warm,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
Can’t you tell, can’t you tell, that’s what they want.
Carpools, relativism, count to ten, pull the trigger,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
That’s what they want, it’s what they want,
Can’t you tell, can’t you tell, that’s what they want,
Can’t you tell, can’t you tell, that’s what they want,
It’s what they want, It’s what they want, It’s what they want,
It’s what they want, It’s what they want, It’s what they want,
It’s what they want, It’s what they want, It’s what they want,
It’s what they want, It’s what they want, It’s what they want,
