This road bubbles in the heat.
Choppin' rocks, the only cracker that mine eyes can see.
These rails have run me out of town and shipped me down the line.
What once was "mine is yours" is now "what's yours is mine".

And those eyes could stain glass with the glaze you try to pass.
The overalls are down but the sheep line up too fast.
Shots and bumps and drops and lines are old shifty friends of mine.

You can move your body (Dance dance dance) to the beat of the pigs while they
rip out your spine and shoot out your legs. You live for the rhythm but you live on your knees.
If we're really this stupid then we'll never succeed.

This morning in a drunken haze, I think I talked to you.
I think we went to breakfast and then walked down to the zoo.
I said some things that I don't mean, but don't remember now. It happens all the time these days.
The words just fall right out.

When this joke dies the party hats and streamers really start to fly.

Look up at the sky where the frogs rain down and the blood floods
the riverbed and seeps down into the ground. Our time is now.