Band Of The Hand (It's Hell Time Man!)

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Down these streets the fools rule

There’s no freedom or self respect

A knife’s point or a trip to the joint

Is about all you can expect

They kill people here who stand up for their rights

The system’s just too damned corrupt

It’s always the same, the name of the game

Is who do you know higher up

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

The blacks and the whites

Steal the other kids’ lives

Wealth is a filthy rag

So erotic so unpatriotic

So wrapped up in the American flag

The witchcraft scum exploiting the dumb

Turns children into crooks and slaves

Whose heroes and healers are real stoned dealers

Who should be put in their graves

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Listen to me Mr. Pusherman

This might be your last night in a bed so soft

There are pimps on the make, politicians on the take

You can’t pay us off

We’re gonna blow up your home of Voodoo

And watch it burn without any regret

We got the power, we’re the new government

You just don’t know it yet

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

For all of my brothers from Vietnam

And my uncles from World War II

I’ve got to say that it’s countdown time now

We’re gonna do what the law should do

And for you pretty baby

I know your story is too painful to share

One day though you’ll be talking in your sleep

And when you do, I wanna be there

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Band of the hand

Copyright © 1986 by Special Rider Music