Lyrics
It's the day before Thanksgiving I'm not feeling much of thanks*
Just a low-grade desperation leaves me reeling in the ranks
Just when I think I'm getting somewhere it's somewhere further to fall
It's the day before Thanksgiving that is all
I don't believe the pilgrims sat with Indians for a feast
A self-proclaimed holy sailor doesn't break bread with his beast
But then again he had a musket and the Indian had a knife
And the musket man could make him eat for life
I don't believe this country's manifestering destiny
Someone just cooked it up and it is fed to you and me
They tell us who to love and war and never ask for help
And they cannot stand us thinking for ourselves
The day before Thanksgiving back in 1991
A millionaire let me drive his Mercedes just for fun
And I drove it with the top down on them Blue Ridge Mountain roads
He let me keep it thirteen weeks or so
And I know what he was saying with that car that wasn't mine
That I could have one too if I just did not cross the line
But lines were made for crossing and I was born to crack the code
And there ain't no shame in walking down this road
So it's turkey breast and stuffing with gravy on the top
Mashed potatoes, peas and dinner rolls, you use them like a mop
Got my position at the table, got a child to say my grace
And a wife and boss that keeps me in my place
It's the day before Thanksgiving I'm not feeling much of thanks
Just a low-grade desperation leaves me reeling in the ranks
Just when I think I'm getting somewhere it's somewhere further to fall
It's the day before Thanksgiving that is all