It's the day before Thanksgiving I'm not feeling much of thanks* Just a low-grade desperation leaves me reeling in the ranks Just when I think I'm getting somewhere it's somewhere further to fall It's the day before Thanksgiving that is all I don't believe the pilgrims sat with Indians for a feast A self-proclaimed holy sailor doesn't break bread with his beast But then again he had a musket and the Indian had a knife And the musket man could make him eat for life I don't believe this country's manifestering destiny Someone just cooked it up and it is fed to you and me They tell us who to love and war and never ask for help And they cannot stand us thinking for ourselves The day before Thanksgiving back in 1991 A millionaire let me drive his Mercedes just for fun And I drove it with the top down on them Blue Ridge Mountain roads He let me keep it thirteen weeks or so And I know what he was saying with that car that wasn't mine That I could have one too if I just did not cross the line But lines were made for crossing and I was born to crack the code And there ain't no shame in walking down this road So it's turkey breast and stuffing with gravy on the top Mashed potatoes, peas and dinner rolls, you use them like a mop Got my position at the table, got a child to say my grace And a wife and boss that keeps me in my place It's the day before Thanksgiving I'm not feeling much of thanks Just a low-grade desperation leaves me reeling in the ranks Just when I think I'm getting somewhere it's somewhere further to fall It's the day before Thanksgiving that is all