©1981 Andrew Calhoun, unreleased 

I'll never be ready to work for you, Mister, 
I'll never be ready to work in your shop 
'Cause I can't spit on my mother and father 
And I'm not ready to make the drop 

The butterfly flew like a prophet in jeopardy 
The butterfly flew, a message for me and you 
The butterfly flew, the prince of identity 
Into an icy wind 
The butterfly flies no more 
The butterfly learned the score 
The butterfly hangs on the wall 
An act of war 
Frozen, and neatly pinned 

We on earth live in fear 
We know the danger here 
Dead people built this town 
Dead people underground 
Dead people overhead 
Dead people in your bed 
Do not raise up your hand 
This is the promised land 
Keep us from neverland 
Dead people sing 
Bring me an oxcart 
Show me a bleeding heart 
Set like a stone 
On God's golden ring 

You'd better look out, Sue 
When the men see your virtue 
They'll try to suck it out of you 
And claim it for their own 
You'd better look out, Joe 
When they see you walkin' slow 
Think you're someone that they know 
And they call you by some funny name 

repeat first verse