Copied from Steve Earle's web site.

CHRISTMAS IN WASHINGTON
(Steve Earle)

It's Christmastime in Washington. The Democrats rehearsed,
Gettin' into gear for four more years, things not gettin' worse.
The Republicans drank whiskey neat and thanked their lucky stars.
They said, "He cannot seek another term. They'll be no more FDRs."
I sat home in Tennessee staring at the screen
With an uneasy feeling in my chest, and I'm wonderin' what it means.

CHO: So come back, Woody Guthrie. Come back to us now.
Tear your eyes from paradise and rise again somehow.
If you run into Jesus, maybe he can help you out.
Come back, Woody Guthrie, to us now.

I followed in your footsteps once, back in my travelin' days.
Somewhere I failed to find your trail. Now I'm stumblin' through the haze.
But there's killers on the highway now, and a man can't get around,
So I sold my soul for wheels that roll. Now I'm stuck here in this town. CHO.

There's foxes in the hen house, cows out in the corn.
The unions have been busted, their proud red banners torn.
To listen to the radio, you'd think that all was well.
But you and me and Cisco know it's going straight to hell.

So come back, Emma Goldman. Rise up, old Joe Hill.
The barricades are goin' up. They cannot break our will.
Come back to us, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King.
We're marching into Selma as the bells of freedom ring. CHO.