It's Christmastime in Washington. The Democrats rehearsed. Gettin' into gear for four more years. Things not gettin' worse. The Republicans drink whiskey neat. And thanked their lucky stars. They said 'He cannot seek another term. They'll be no more FDRs'. I sat home in Tennessee. Staring at the screen. With an uneasy feeling in my chest. And I'm wonderin' what it means. Chorus:. So come back Woody Guthrie. Come back to us now. Tear your eyes from paradise. And rise again somehow. If you run into Jesus. Maybe he can help you out. Come back Woody Guthrie to us now. I followed in your footsteps once. Back in my travelin' days. Somewhere I failed to find your trail. Now I'm stumblin' through the haze. But there's killers on the highway now. And a man can't get around. So I sold my soul for wheels that roll. Now I'm stuck here in this town. Chorus. There's foxes in the hen house. Cows out in the corn. The unions have been busted. Their proud red banners torn. To listen to the radio. You'd think that all was well. But you and me and Cisco know. It's going straight to hell. So come back Emma Goldman. Rise up old Joe Hill. The barracades are goin' up. They cannot break our will. Come back to us Malcolm X. And Martin Luther King. We're marching into Selma. As the bells of freedom ring. Chorus.