The Ghost Of Tom Joad


Man walks around the railroad tracks,
He's going someplace, and theres no turning back.
The highway patrol chopper coming up over the ridge,
Man sleeps by a campfire under a bridge. 

Shelter lines streching around the corner,
Welcome to the New World Order.
Families sleeping in their cars out in the South West,
No job. No hope. No peace. No rest. 

The highway's alive tonight,
Nobody's fooling nobody as to where it goes.
I'm sitting down here in the campfire light,
Searching for the Ghost of Tom Joad. 

He pulls a prayer book out of a sleeping bag,
The preacher lights up a butt and takes a drag.
He's waiting for the time when the last shall be first
and the first shall be last,
In a cardboard box beneath the underpass. 

With a one way ticket to the promised land,
With a hole in your belly and a gun in your hand.
Looking for a pillow or solid rock,
Bathing in the city's aquaduct. 

The highway's alive tonight,
Nobody's fooling nobody as to where it goes.
I'm sitting down here in the campfire light,
With the Ghost of Old Tom Joad. 

Wherever you seen a cop beating a guy,
Wherever a hungry new born baby cries.
Wherever there's a fight against the blood and hatred in the air,
Look for me Ma, I'll be there. 

Wherever somebody's struggling for a place to stand,
For a decent job or a helping hand.
Wherever somebody's struggling to be free,
Look in their eyes Ma, you'll see me. 

You'll see me. You'll see me! You'll see me!