Some Records With Drum Machines

O' Beautiful For Spacious Skies But Now Those Skies Are Threatening They're Beating Plowshares Into Swords For This Tired Old Man That We Elected King Armchair Warriors Often Fail And We've Been Poisoned By These Fairy Tales The Lawyers Clean Up All Details Since Daddy Had To Lie But I Know A Place Where We Can Go And Wash Away This Sin We'll Sit And Watch The Clouds Roll By And The Tall Grass Wave In The Wind Just Lay Your Head Back On The Ground And Let Your Hair Spill All Around Me Offer Up Your Best Defence But This Is The End This Is The End Of The Innocence

I Don't Mind Doing Two Or Three Eagles Songs And Playing The Drums. I'm Not One Of Those Artists Who's Going To Sit Here And Deny The Past.

I Remember A Time When Things Were A Lot More Fun Around Here, When Good Was Good And Evil Was Evil, Before Things Got Fuzzy.

What Are These Voices Outside Love's Open Door, Make Us Throw Off Our Contentment, And Beg For Something More?

The Trouble With You And Me My Friend, Is The Trouble With This Nation, Too Many Blessings, Too Little Appreciation.