We got road, we got time, so we're out of here We got rows, we got rows as far as we can see In the dust we can see your catastrophe Shining dimly like a mud slick in the sun Sparks fly from their eyes Birds fly from their mouths Echoing off this procession is a sound Never to be found With a tip of the hat we would exit here Off you go with a pie on your face Down the road we can see the electric chair Who'll be the first? I don't know, it's a race. With a drop of the fly we should exit here Off you go with the crumbs on your face One-eyed clown in the road with electric hair At his best he's a total disgrace
