This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Oh, but to just dance on steel, the Sky Pulaski way.
By the fires of Elizabeth, never cease to amaze.
So hats off to the industry's casualties
Tra loo tray lay.
Oh that swamp full of grabbing hands.
Pull you under New Amsterdam.
Chinese boxes hold their secrets well.
How many are there one can never tell.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church.
Art class for the bourgeoisies, lab rats for the cat.
Real estate moguls, Chump Towers,
When the wind blows you can hear the windows go rat a tat rat a tat tat tat.
Jimmy Hoffa in the Meadowlands, weighing down that union man.
Grab his ankles, stevedores,
Oh how those Jets do roar.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church.
Oh but to just dine on sewage, cold seagull pie.
Wrestle albino alligators and spin the good lie.
Oh that swamp full of grabbing hands.
Pull you under New Amsterdam.
Chinese boxes hold their secrets well.
How many are there one can never tell.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church
By the fires of Elizabeth, never cease to amaze.
So hats off to the industry's casualties
Tra loo tray lay.
Oh that swamp full of grabbing hands.
Pull you under New Amsterdam.
Chinese boxes hold their secrets well.
How many are there one can never tell.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church.
Art class for the bourgeoisies, lab rats for the cat.
Real estate moguls, Chump Towers,
When the wind blows you can hear the windows go rat a tat rat a tat tat tat.
Jimmy Hoffa in the Meadowlands, weighing down that union man.
Grab his ankles, stevedores,
Oh how those Jets do roar.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church.
Oh but to just dine on sewage, cold seagull pie.
Wrestle albino alligators and spin the good lie.
Oh that swamp full of grabbing hands.
Pull you under New Amsterdam.
Chinese boxes hold their secrets well.
How many are there one can never tell.
Got to get religion, they gonna join that underground church
Even the mole people got to get religion.
They gonna join that underground church
Lyrics submitted by almostmanda, edited by mcpierceaim
Pulaski Skyway Lyrics as written by Jean-paul Gaster Dan Maines
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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First time I heard it, I thought the line was
"Wrestle albino rhino-gators"
Which would have been so much cooler, and so much more like Clutch.