Good morning, Mr. Blue.
We've got our eyes on you.
The evidence is clear
that you've been scheming.
You'd like to steal away
and while away the day.
You'd like to spend an
hour dreaming.
But what will it
take to whip you into line?
A broken heart?
A broken head?
It can be arranged.
It can be arranged.
Step softly, Mr. Blue.
We know what's best for you,
and we know where your
precious dreams
will take you.
You've got a slot to fill,
and fill that slot you will.
You'll learn to love it,
or we'll break you.
And what will it take to whip you in the line,
a broken heart, a broken head?
It can be arranged.
Oh, it can be arranged.
Be careful, Mr. Blue.
This phase you're going through
can lead you nowhere else
but to disaster.
Excuse us while we grin.
You've won our pa tience, then.
It's time we showed you who's
your master.
But don't worry, Mr. Blue.
We'll take good care of you.
Just think of it as sense and not surrender.
But never think again
that you can think again,
or you'll get something
you'll remember.
What will it take to whip you into line?
A broken heart?
A broken head?
It can be arranged.
It can be arranged.
You are flying to Vienna.
You are phoned aboard your airplanes,
sit at oaken tables,
speak in solemn tongues
While the leaders of all nations
keep a deep respectful silence
You're moving pawns and bishops
made of flesh and blood and bones
But the white bones of Allende
and the scattered bones of Chile
Are the scream that breaks the silence
of a thousand blown away
Oh, the white bones of Allende
and the scattered bones of Chile
Are not silent,
they are screaming,
they're your peace prize, Dr. King
While you banter with reporters,
while you charm your fellow diners,
while you dance with wives of princes,
while you wrest from cares of state,
there are thousands in the prisons.
There are widows numb with sorrow,
there are graves unmarked and hidden,
there are ghosts outside your gates.
And the white bones of Allende,
scattered from Chile,
are to scream the brisk silence
So a thousand blown away
For the white bones of Allende
And the scattered bones of Chile
Are not silent, they are screaming
They're your peace prize, Dr. McCain
Or it's Kissinger in China
Or it's Kissinger in Cairo
Kissinger at NATO
In the grand old power game
But the white bones of Allende
Tell another darker story
For you never got to Chile
But you killed it just the same
And the white bones of Allende
A scattered bone in Chile
Hard to scream that breaks the silence
Of the thousand blown away
Oh, the white bones of Allende
A scattered bone in Chile
Are not silent,
they are screaming
They're your peace prize, Dr. King
Tom Paxton 
