Down at the bottom of the Second Street Bridge In a story I've often been told Beneath the water at the Second Street Bridge There's a little piece of gold Has the gild edge worn away And the ribbon long ago rotted and frayed Has the rust eaten through like a cheap ring would do Or was it really solid gold Whip the world, whip this town Whip it into the river and watch it go down Whip the world, your lashing tongue Big man crying like babies from where the bee stung Fair fight on a Friday night Ropeadope swingin' in the spotlight Fight your own fight, fight to win Fight the wrong fight, it's gonna be a sin Hatred and love fit together like a hand in a glove Bound with tape and tied at the wrist A hand becomes a fist Whip the world, whip this town Whip it into the river and watch it go down Whip the world your lashing tongue Big man crying like babies from where the bee stung Whip the world whip this town Whip it into the river and watch 'em all drown When the king threw off his golden crown Floating down like butterfly wings It sank without a sound