Grateful Dead - Throwing Stones Lyrics
Picture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning freeDizzy with eternity.Paint it with a skin of sky, brush in some clouds and seaCall it home for you and me.A peaceful place or so it looks from spaceA closer look reveals the human race.Full of hope, full of grace, is the human face.But afraid, we may our home to waste.Theres a fear down here we cant forget hasnt got a name just yetAlways awake, always around singing ashes to ashes all fall down.Now watch as the ball revolves and the nighttime callsAnd again the hunt begins and again the bloodwind callsBy and by again, the morning sun will riseBut the darkness never goes from some mens eyes.It strolls the sidewalks and it rolls the streetsStalking turf, dividing up meat.Nightmare spook, piece of heat, you and me, you and me.Click, flashblade in ghetto night. rudies looking for a fight.Rat cat alley roll them bones. need that cash to feed that jonesAnd the politicians throwing stonesSinging ashes, ashes all fall down.Commissars and pin-striped bosses role the diceAny way they fall guess who gets to pay the price.Money green or proletarian gray, selling guns instead of food today.So the kids they dance, they shake their bonesWhile the politicians throwing stonesSinging ashes, ashes all fall down.Heartless powers try to tell us what to thinkIf the spirits sleeping, then the flesh is ink.Historys page, it is thusly carved in stoneThe futures here, we are it, we are on our own.If the game is lost then were all the sameNo one left to place or take the blame.We will leave this place an empty stoneOr this shinning ball of blue we can call our homeSo the kids they dance, they shake their bonesWhile the politicians are throwing stonesSinging ashes, ashes all fall down.Shipping powders back and forthSinging black goes south while white comes northAnd the whole world full of petty warsSinging I got mine and you got yours.And the current fashions set the pace.Lose your step, fall out of grace.And the radical he rant and rage, singing someone got to turn the pageAnd the rich man in his summer home,Singing just leave well enough aloneBut his pants are down, his covers blownAnd the politicians are throwing stonesSo the kids they dance they shake their bonesCause its all too clear were on our ownPicture a bright blue ball just spinning, spinning freeIts dizzying, the possibilities. ashes, ashes all fall down.
