Mr. Richards

Mr. Richards, your position

Is a messenger pigeon

Left behind you when the camp moved on.

We thought that you would listen

But the words had never crystallized

Into a truth that you might own, hey hey.

Mr. Richards, your decision.

Pay attention, pay attention.

Mr. Richards, you're forgiven

For a narrow lack of vision

But the fires are still raging on.

The public's got opinions

And these consequences border on

The compound that you raised

Will sell it see, hey hey.

Mr. Richards, your decision.

Pay attention, pay attention.

So listen, your intention;

Sign the papers, stamp the ribbon.

You're mistaken if you think we'll just forget.

You can thump your chest and rattle,

Stand in front of your piano,

But we know what's going on.

Yes we know what's going on.

We're the children of the choir, hey

And we know what's going on.

Mr. Richards, your conviction

Had us cheering in the kitchen,

Now the jury's eating pigeon pie.

So tell me how is prison?

Have they taught you how to listen?

We've begun to bridge the schism.

Pay attention, pay attention.

Mr. Richards, your decision.

Pay attention, pay attention.

You can thump your chest and rattle,

Stand in front of your piano

But we know what's going on.

Yes we know what's going on.

We're the children of the choir, hey

From the compound fire, hey

And we know what's going on.

Yes we know what's going on.