Verse 1 There’s a lot of anger that comes from this heart, somehow I’ve mastered it into a form of art. If you wanna run a business, better run with them— or watch ’em come for your business and run you outta town. They want your livelihood, they don’t want you to thrive, you better understand who’s controlling this ride. You work all day just trying to survive, then politics decides who deserves to stay alive. Pre-Chorus You can disagree, you can draw your line, but don’t pretend their living ain’t on the line. When the tables go empty and the doors shut down, somebody pays when you run ’em outta town. Chorus Don’t run ’em outta town, don’t tear the working people down. You can speak your mind, you can stand your ground, but don’t take a livelihood and run it outta town. We all want a voice, we all want to be heard, freedom ain’t freedom if you punish every word. You don’t have to agree, you can turn it around— but don’t take somebody’s living and run it outta town. Verse 2 Mother’s Bistro’s weathered twenty-six years, through all of the struggle, the sweat and the tears. Le Pigeon, Kachka, Hat Yai and Eem, suddenly names on somebody’s political screen. Pink Martini, Wonderly, the names go around, restaurants and workers all over this town. They spoke about safety, they took their own stand, now somebody’s telling you where not to spend in Portland. Pre-Chorus But who cooked your dinner? Who poured your drink? Did anybody stop for a minute and think? The owner may speak, but when business goes down, it’s the hourly worker getting run outta town. Chorus Don’t run ’em outta town, don’t tear the working people down. You can speak your mind, you can stand your ground, but don’t take a livelihood and run it outta town. We all want a voice, we all want to be heard, freedom ain’t freedom if you punish every word. You don’t have to agree, you can turn it around— but don’t take somebody’s living and run it outta town. Verse 3 What about the workers just earning their pay? Maybe they don’t even see it the same way. The cooks didn’t vote, the servers didn’t choose, but when you empty those tables, they’re the first ones to lose. So how do you justify hurting the crew over a political view they may not share with you? Is disagreement enough to start shutting things down? Is that really the future that you want for this town? Bridge — stripped down Blood, sweat and tears— twenty-six years. A lease, a payroll, a dream held together, trying to keep those doors open through every kind of weather. A dishwasher’s rent. A server’s next meal. A cook with a family— those consequences are real. So before you make a list and start passing it around, remember who gets hurt when the customers don’t come around. Final Chorus — bigger Don’t run ’em outta town, don’t tear the working people down. Fight with your words, stand your ground, but don’t take a livelihood and run it outta town. Left, right, somewhere in between, we still gotta live here, we still gotta eat. A city can argue without burning itself down— we oughta build each other up, not run each other outta town. Outro There’s a lot of anger that comes from this heart, somehow I’ve mastered it into a form of art. And I’ll say what I see while I’m still around— you don’t save a city by running its people outta town.
