sing me the rhythms of the saints
street lives spare me your jailhouse rock
boil your heads in your weeping west rains
ain't you just blinded losers 'n schmucks in the flock
posturing & miming like Marcel Marceau in mad pains
chewing 'n puking white house blues of hill-billies that *****
like they know **** of love when ya papas dan scoot off on da midnight train
and ya mamas are sneaking down the alleys with Hank 'n Marvin for some rucks
go get Nev for its time to flame the cross and go badger-baiting in the Plains