Guantanamo

Hear you sold your friend
Got a good price at the local store
You know he could’ve turned you in
Could have been you on the concrete floor
Jefferson roll over and tell ol' Stalin the news
They got 'em looked up in the castroland
Redefining abuse in shades of grey
Torture advocate
Got his dick up in a chicken hawk
Life is what he’ll get
War president is a criminal
Still the years they go by
No charge of trial date
You’re accused of whatever you confess to
Until then you won’t see the light of day
There must be another way
There must be another way
The weathervanes are charging down the hill
In some quixotic Calvary
And the war machine is shaking in its sleep
And the homesick ghost of the Geronimo
I fear is taking all the absinthe
There must be another way
Since Geneva’s nearly drowned
Since the tinsmith was gagged and bound
Since the rich boys got away
Two shovels and a skull of the widower brave
Another indefinite detention
Another tradition saved
All hail the line of crooked white chiefs
Whose father stole the bones from an Indian grave
There must be another way
There must be another way
There must be another
Hey Geronimo, hey Guantanamo
Hey Geronimo, hey Guantanamo
Hey Geronimo, hey Guantanamo
Hey Geronimo, hey Guantanamo