Kris Kristofferson

Great Society Talking Blues


I was sittin’ down to supper after workin’ hard all day

Earning just about enough to keep the wolf away

Makin’ more in taxes than I was in take home pay

That’s the patriotic thing to do


This hard luck lookin’ fella came a knockin’ at my door

And I offered him a bite to eat ‘cause he looked so poor

Ha ate all that I gave him and asked if there was more

I said there was and he ate that up too

Bashful type


Well. He ate my watermelon when he polished off my grits

Then he washed it down with whiskey, spittin’ seeds between the sips

Smoked up all my cigarettes and ate the filter tips

I could tell he hadn’t had no fetchin’ up


He ate like he was trying hard to give his self a cramp

And the little soup he left me wouldn’t lick a postage stamp

Then he said, I’ve eaten better in a concentration camp

Drank my coffee from my coffee cup

Like he had it comin’ to him


Well, I’m as quick as anyone to give a man a hand

But I’d enjoyed about as much of this as I could stand

So I picked him up to throw him out and he said, cool it man

I’m part of this great society


He says, the way I figure it I work for Uncle Sam

I done perfected my own anti-poverty program

I merely done eliminated that old middle man

And all you got goes straight from you to me

The spirit that built the West


Had to admit though, he had a point or two

I ain’t worked a lick myself, I mean I may be slow, but I ain’t stupid

Words & Music by Kris Kristofferson c. Jody Ray Publishing, Inc. (BMI) All Rights Reserved


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