Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving day, and the people have gathered
To break bread with their loved ones, while away the hours
Soon we'll bid happy farewell, to this God awful year in which
All things turned backwards, a stampede of fear

As we honor a dinner, between unlikely friends
The irony lays bitter, true means and true ends
As the Northlands play host, to a familiar feast
Prospectors gorge, on Indian greif

And there's a long black snake, headed across the West
She's got black sludge in her belly, steel across her chest
She's brutal and she's careless, making canyons out of cracks
But the money flows in behind her, and covers up her tracks

Once the British were new, to this beautiful land
And one long harsh winter, saw Plymouth half dead
Now their children's grandchildren, in greeds blood red robes
Have forgotten who helped them, in that first bitter cold

And there's a long black snake, headed across the West
She's got black sludge in her belly, steel across her chest
She's brutal and she's careless, making canyons out of cracks
But the money flows in behind her, and covers up her tracks

Who was it who helped them, when spirits were shattered
And on Thanksgiving Day, with whom they first gathered



Credits
Writer(s): Cooper Mcgill, Cordae Dunston, Daniel Hackett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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