Do you see that countryman dancing to the groove
It won’t be long until the law comes round to whisk him away
Living life like his wife had already died years before that day
Whiskey in his pot belly, strands of hair as long as the grass on the lawn
Country music blasting the rims off a low rider on the freeway
On his way to Sacremento looking for post winter glory in a San Francisco day
Staying up with love all night, in poor situations with poor folk
Eggs with no yolk, polka with no pulp
Burning essence like the desire in his mind
Don’t let him go alone, don’t let the cowboy hat fall near his long lost bitterness
If he stayed up all night, grant him the right to take a piss
If not, fall into the darkness off to heaven to square dance
Ping pong players in white robes looking like Scorsese on coke
No dope, but just a hell of a lot of hope
Warmonger 