You got 48 hours to go
Best start wrestling with your soul
because a Texas boy's got a big hard on for you, man
You got 48 hours to go
Better climb up out your hole
Or burrow in deep, burrow in deep burrow in deep
like a tick, like a tick like a tick, man!

Run run run run run away
And live to Saddam-ize another day
You ain't got time to shit or pray
cuz the dogs of rationale have gone astray
They've gone astray.

You got 48 hours left
You can almost smell his breath
It smells of high horse
It smells of high horse
You got 48 hours to go
And they're coming win, place or show
So lay down your money, lay down your money, lay down your money

Are you bettin' on the Yanks in the clanky old tanks?
Are you firing up the Kroner are you firing up the Francs?

When you're 48 hours done
will they find that smoking gun
Or a basket of snipe
A bucket of tripe
Some asses to wipe
It's all just hipe cuz there's oil to swipe

You got 48 hours to go