White Houses - Eric Burdon

White houses in neat little rows

Contrasting against the sky

Tumbled down black shacks over the tracks

Children so hungry they could cry

The chrome, the steel, the metal dream

Leaving the teepee to rot

The escapist young mind, left behind

Saving dimes for community pot

You better get straight

Better, better get straight

I feel you better get straight right now

Better get straight babe

They’re crying out for love

All the time

But they fail to see the neighbors eyes

The TV is on, 6 o clock news

And channels in full colored lies

The company meets, the president speaks

He’s young but his bones creak

Young girl dresses for the highschool dance

And the guy next door is dying for a beat

Get straight

You better, yes you better get straight babe

Did you hear what I said?

I said to you, that you, you better get straight

They put a bible in a drawer

Of the motel room

And it’s crying out to be read

But it stays right there, collecting dust

No one understands what’s being said

Lovers make love in country boxes

What will tomorrow bring?

They’ve been told that it’s wrong

But they don’t give a damn

Soon another life it will bring

You better get straight babe

Yeah, you better get straight baby