Word Game [Live at Berkeley 1971]

Stephen StillsStephen Stills 

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Stephen Stills

Stephen Arthur Stills (born January 3, 1945) is an American guitarist and singer/songwriter best known for his work with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills & Nash (and Young). He has performed on a professional level in several other bands as well as maintaining a solo career at the same time. Stills was ranked #28 in Rolling Stone Magazine's 2003 list of "The 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time". Stills became the first person to be inducted twice on the same night into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for his work with CSN and Buffalo Springfield. more »

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Would you knock a man down if you don't like the cut of his clothes? 
Would you put a man away if you don't want to hear what he knows? 
Well, it's happening right here, people are dying of fear by the droves 
You can feel it as it’s rumbling, let emotions keep a tumbling  
Then the city starts to crumbling, mostly empty bellies grumbling, yeah we’re gone  

It's incredibly sick, you can feel it as across the land it flows 
Prejudice is slick, when it's a word game it festers and grows 
Better move along quick, it furthers one to have somewhere to go 
And I know most of you either don’t believe it’s true,  
Or else you don’t know what to do, or maybe I’m singing about you, who knows?  

People see somebody different, fear is the first reaction shown 
Then they think they've got him licked, the barbaric hunt begins 
And they move in slow 
A human spirit is devoured, the remains left to carrion crow 
But I was told that life is change and yet history remains 
Does it always stay the same? 
Or do we shrug it off and say, "Only God knows"? 

By and by, somebody usually goes 
Down to the ghetto, try and help 
But they don't know why folks treat them cold 
And the rich keep getting richer 
But they’ll just keep on getting old 
You see, one must have a mission in order to be a good Christian 
If you don't, you will be missing High Mass or the evening show 

And the well-fed masters reap the harvests 
Of the polluted seeds they've sown 
Smug and self-righteous, they bitch about people they own 
And you can't prove them wrong 
They're so God damn sure they know 

I have seen these things with my very own eyes 
And defended my battered soul, it must be too tough to die 
American propaganda, South African lies 
Will not force me to take up arms, that's my enemies' pride 
And I won't fight by his rules, that's foolishness besides 
His ignorance is gonna do him in and nobody's gonna cry 
Because his children they are growing up 
And plainly tired of putting up with bigots and their silver cups 
They're fed up, they might throw up on you, alright

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