[chorus] Take me down to the property city Where the lots are straight and the deeds ain’t gritty Oh, won’t you please sign mine? Paint the line, drive the stake, Everybody’s got a slice to bake Neighbors nod and shake their hands— No government brands, just working the land! Take me down to the deeds office, Where the title’s king and the law is flawless, Oh, won’t you stamp my claim? Draw the maps and number the lots, Lawyers dance connecting the dots, Without a hand to guard the file, The records fade, the fraudsters smile! Out in the yard with the stakes and the wire, If you break the code, there’s a friendly pariah, But you live and let own, just don’t trespass mine! Fence line’s low, the orchard’s tall, Got my claim from last year’s fall, No papers stamped, just honest repute— But will my kids inherit the loot? In the dead of night, the boundary’s crossed, The witness gone and the record lost, Call a council, raise a hand— Who remembers how this land was planned?
