You with the jaundiced eyes, Drunk on your own reflection Propped up with desks and flags, Eight chairs short of perfection Your lines drawn here, there and everywhere None of your own volition Unrecognized your paste and your shadow Stripped of all your definition Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Until your whereabouts are known to me You've been abused and cheated, Shat on you're beyond defeated Those who rise stand in your name, Then treat you roughly once they're seated Your pen in one, the sword in the other Satisfied the blessing is given In God they trust only their way one way Afraid of the other isms Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Until your whereabouts are known to me The grass it is always greener Under western skies But your Norman Rockwell nation's Being choked by weeds and vines Looky here the old grey mare She ain't what she used to be, oh no Looky here the old grey mayor He's all he's cracked up to be Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Scour the house, flip the wig, Shake the tree, Until your, until your, until your Whereabouts are known to me Your whereabouts are known to me Your whereabouts are known to me Your whereabouts are known Your whereabouts are known Your whereabouts are known