From the recording March
All words and music by Quinn Henry Mulligan
Lyrics
Just because you don’t like a man
You’d let a thousand die, your hands
Are bloody, covered red, white and blue
Boo-hoo, you lose a few dimes
It happens to us every time we go
To the doctor
Because of it, I can go
To the doctor
Yes, I know that I need to go
To the doctor
Tell him that I’ll be there soon
I hope he’s got a big enough room
For all the folks just like me
Who couldn’t afford to live so free
But it’s still too bad I can’t afford school
I’ll die in a job that was made for a fool