It ain't no joke, I'd like to buy the world a toke.
And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.
And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars.
Hey I know it's just a song, but it's spice for the recipe.
This is a love attack, I know it went out but it's back.
It's just like any fad, it retracts before impact.
And just like fashion, it's a passion for the with it and hip.
If ya got the goods, they'll come and buy it just to stay in the clique.

So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out.
Allow, if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive.
And if you swallow there may be a tomorrow.
But if the offer is shun, you might as well be walkin' on the sun.

Twenty-five years ago, they broke out and they spoke out.
Of depression and oppresion and together they toked.
And they folked out on guitars around a bon fire.
Just a singin' and a clappin', man, what the hell happened?
Some were spell bound, some were hell bound.
Some they fell down and some got back up and, 
Fought back against the meltdown.
And their kids are hippie chicks, all hypocrites, because,
Fashion is smashin' the true meaning of it.

Chorus

It ain't no joke when a mamma's handkerchief is soaked,
With her tears, because her baby's life has been revoked.
The bond is broke, up, so choke up and focus on the close up.
Mr. Wizard can't perform no God like Hocus-Pocus.
So don't sit back, kick back and watch the world get bushwacked.
News at 10:00, your neighbour hood is under attack.
Put away the crack, before the crack puts you away.
You need to be there when your babies are old enough to relate.

Chorus









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