Dept. of false hope

Welcome, my son, to where the work is never done
and the hungry are seldom ever fed.
The department of false hope is proving ground for dopes,
and they’ll grind your tiny bones to make their bread.
(Hosanna)

So hold your head up high, forgotten men,
tomorrow won’t be made for you,
and everybody’s gotta try to lend a helping hand
for God and men, there’s nothing more to do.

It crackled on the radio, through bright plumes of the sun,
the announcer said the age of faith was dead.
Though the adolescent nation was just looking for salvation,
the beast of reason reared it’s ugly head.
(Hosanna)

So hold your head up high, forgotten men,
tomorrow won’t be made for you,
and everybody’s gotta try to lend a helping hand
for God and men, there’s nothing more to do.

From your cradle of destruction
with the poorest of instruction
and the merest silver of a tune,
you managed somehow to muddle through.

So hold your head up high, forgotten men,
tomorrow won’t be made for you,
and everybody’s gotta try to lend a helping hand
for God and men, there’s nothing more to do,
there is nothing more.