Genesis Hall — Richard Thompson

My father he rides with your sheriffs And I know he would never mean harm But to see both sides of a quarrel Is to judge without hate or love

Oh, oh, helpless and slow And you don't have anywhere to go

You take away homes from the homeless And leave them to die in the cold The gypsy who begs for your presents He will laugh in your face when you're old

Oh, oh, helpless and slow And you don't have anywhere to go

Well one man he drinks up his whiskey Another he drinks up his wine And they'll drink 'till their eyes are red with hate For those of a different kind

Oh, oh, helpless and slow And you don't have anywhere to go

When the rivers run thicker than trouble I'll be there at your side in the flood T'was all I could do to keep myself From taking revenge on your blood

Oh, oh, helpless and slow And you don't have anywhere to go Oh, oh, helpless and slow And you don't have anywhere to go