It's always pretty after an apocalypse
So we strolled past the flowers planted by the bloods and crips
And they chose white lilies 'cause they're such wacky kids
It was a good day
Damn right, it was a good day
Almost all the hypocrites and demagogues were gone
Like the sacramental moment In a last poets song
And Bayard Rustin came back just to bitch slap Farrakhan
It was a good day
Damn right, it was a good day
Burned to the ground
We knew it would
Burst into bloom
Healthy and good
So we struck that match
And went back to sleep
Lee Atwater was on the corner turning tricks
Clutching the failed box set of his heartfelt blues licks
He said "I think I liked the ghetto better when it was sick"
It was a good day
Damn right, it was a good day
Razed to the ground
We knew it would
Burst into bloom
Healthy and good
Bayard Rustin smiled
And went back to sleep
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
Good morning, good morning, America
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