Then against my better judgment I went walking out that door I smiled at one person then I nodded to three more One man asked me for a dollar, I asked
Impetus Justification, the means are the end Doctrine and dogma, I will not relent This world a garden in need of such weeding This world a minefield
In the north they call us rebels, in the south they call us Yankees Because every other suckers born to do the hokey-pokey With the skillet lickin' time
Behind the Cliffside Inn I heard a fiddle and a mandolin Keeping rhythm on an old washboard And stomping on the floor Saw people of all sorts Dancing
