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