They took my friend.
They cuffed his wrists.
They beat him in the van.

He hadn't done a thing
But when they came, he ran.
And they pursued

And they were rude
And he said nothing,
He bit his lip.

If you speak, you'll feel their feet.
But if you don't
you'll still get hit.

What's the matter with you,
my lovely brown eyed man?
I can feel you shaking
when I take you by the hand.

Tell me. What's the matter,
my lovely brown eyed man?
How come I can feel you shaking
when I take you by thе hand?
They want me bad, now bad I'll be.
Thеy keep me poor
they make me sick

They feed me with desires for
things that I don't need that stick
their needles in my arms.

Expensive things I can't afford.
They show me rooms furnished with gold
and then they close the doors.
What's the matter with you,
my lovely brown eyed man?
I can feel you shaking
when I take you by the hand.
Please tell me,
what's the matter
my lovely brown eyed man?
I'm a child of the gimme-more nation.
When they want something,
they launch an occupation.

They plunder and pillage
and they say that they're saving.
They're bombing and maiming.
They're taking and taking.

But they lock me up,
and they paint me a demon
for trying to feed
my screaming children.
While they're killing for money
and they're crippling countries
and they're doing it all
beneath a flag saying

Freedom.

Now, what's the matter with you?
You're lying if you think
that my pain isn't your pain,
'cause when I'm hit you flinch.

What's the matter with you,
my lovely brown eyed man?
how come I can feel you shaking
when I take you by the hand?