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Well its high noon at the u.k. corral, |
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& its high time i got myself back on the rails, |
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I'm the lonesome cowboy, ridin across the range, |
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With just a hand held radio--to keep me sane, |
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Ridin through the f.m. stations, the tumbleweed, |
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& the petrol stations, |
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Will all on board this yankee station |
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Prepare themselves for battle stations-- |
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Chorus |
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Jesus wept. jesus christ. |
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I can't see for the tear gas, & the dollar signs in my eyes. |
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Well, whats a man got left to fight for |
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When he's bought his freedom |
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By the look of this human jungle |
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It aint just the poor who'll be bleeding! |
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Most everyone round here thinks they're something special |
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That destiny will be kind-- |
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While they're digging for gold, diving for pearls, |
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& aiming for heaven from this man made world. |
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Come on down--the devil's in town |
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He's brought you sticks and stones |
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To bust your neighbors bones, |
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He's stuck his missiles in your gardens, |
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& his theories down your throat-- |
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& god knows what your gonna do with him |
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Cos i certainly don't |
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Chorus |
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Down by the river, i've been washing out my mouth, |
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Cos deep in the heart of me |
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There's a frightened man breaking out. |
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Oh i was just looking for paradise |
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Anywhere in this world |
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While they're gunning for heaven-- |
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From this man made hell!!! |
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Angels of destruction. |
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Angels of destruction!!!! |
