Walkin' thru this town I'm dragging my feet through mud.

I don't usually get queasy at the sight of blood,

but this time it's different, it's not blood from you or me,

it's the blood of a weak and dying dog named liberty.

it's the blood of Jesus, the blood of Ghandi, of Martin Luther King

the blood of the Buddha, the blood of Mother Earth, the Blood of God

the blood of a past nation, of a dead dove