Well I guess we’ll say we didn’t know in advance
They’d take the beauty of the fields
Coulda, woulda, shoulda done it when we had the chance
Too busy on our hamster wheels
There ain’t no use in calling foul play when the deal is done
But it’s better not to spill the milk than spend your money on a sponge
But if that milk is poison, babe, then damn, you better run
Just pay the toll, say farewell with a song

Well I don’t want to be the one to say I knew that it was wrong
And sometimes you don’t know what you got until it’s gone
And you cannot split the people from the land where they belong
Don’t pay the toll, save the well, say it strong

Said the deaf horse to the blind man as they’re looking at the map
It looks to be that you and me are headed for a trap
And more than one of us would say the train is off it’s tracks
But no that doesn’t mean that it cannot turn back
But once they got the permits and the passes
It’ll probably be too late to move the masses
So now would probably be the time to get up off our asses
or we’ll be saying farewell to our chances

Chorus

Now in the beginning there was this feeling that bothered me
‘Cause looking at the science they said they knew it solidly
But if we get compared to Flint in terms of water quality
In looking back at past events, they’ll call it an anomaly
But who’ll be left to clean the messes, it’s...probably me
And you’ll be skipping town, I can bet that you’ll be gone ‘n free
And all the bad that came to pass, they say it came improbably
You’ll be strapped with real cash while we all play monopoly
So I don’t owe nobody no kind of apology
For not getting a degree in hydrogeology
I’m just working off of a precautionary policy
And ain’t falling for the same old logical fallacies
But I’ll be here until the hundred-year flood comes to swallow me
So if you’re a believer won’t you sing it out and follow me

Well there ain’t no use in calling foul play
once the deal is done
Oh, don’t you know that bad things happen every day
And there’s a day for everything under the sun
When the storm makes the landfall we’ll be baling out the swale
Voices tired and faces pale
We could have been singing songs and drinking Black Mo Ale
We’ll pay the Toll, say the well is where we failed

Chorus

Let’s save the well, tell the Tolls to roll along