Let’s have a nice. quiet. ride into hell
we got the Indian’s curse
where the cowboy hats fell.
The last of the glaciers started to melt
get your children to the boat
and we’ll float coast to coast
Icicle daggers cut to the past
harpoons to buffoons
you cough when you laugh
Smoke-stacks blanket our political rage
put your hands up, die young
grieve the ice age
Tell me where do you go with a sad song to sell
I swear I’ll never tell if you never tell
we set it in motion the waves in the ocean
and yes I believe I deserve this promotion
a cautionary tale, and my morals wear thin
and I’ll be damned if I lose it again
Put your head down, listen, to the stampeding feet
run the barbwire fences
marching war-drums to beat
Telephone wires where mockingbirds fell
hear the ghost as he boasts
from pillar to post
TV announces all sweethearts to prom
strap all the cub-scouts
with nuclear bombs
You don’t need a compass to follow this road
tune in, listen
do you know the Morse code?
