| Good evening Mr. Waldheim
|
| And Pontiff how are you?
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| You have so much in common
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| In the things you do
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| And here comes Jesse Jackson
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| He talks of Common Ground
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| Does that Common Ground include me
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| Or is it just a sound?
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| A sound that shakes
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| Oh Jesse, you must watch the sounds you make
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| A sound that quakes
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| There are fears that still reverberate
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| Jesse you say Common Ground
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| Does that include the PLO?
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| What about people right here right now
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| Who fought for you not so long ago?
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| The words that flow so freely
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| Falling dancing from your lips
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| I hope that you don’t cheapen them
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| With a racist slip
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| Oh Common Ground
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| Is Common Ground a word or just a sound?
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| Common Ground
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| Remember those civil rights workers buried in the ground
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| If I ran for President
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| And once was a member of the Klan
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| Wouldn’t you call me on it
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| The way I call you on Farrakhan
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| And Pontiff, pretty Pontiff
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| Can anyone shake your hand?
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| Or is it just that you like uniforms
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| And someone kissing your hand
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| Or is it true
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| The Common Ground for me includes you too?
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| Oh, oh, is it true
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| The Common Ground for me includes you too?
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| Good evening Mr. Waldheim
|
| Pontiff how are you?
|
| As you both stroll through the woods at night
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| I’m thinking thoughts of you
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| And Jesse you’re inside my thoughts
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| As the rhythmic words subside
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| My Common Ground invites you in
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| Or do you prefer to wait outside
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| Or is it true
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| The Common Ground for me is without you
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| Or is it true
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| The Common Ground for me is without you
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| Oh is it true
|
| There’s no Ground Common enough for me and you |