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he sells the indian cigar man door-to-door
that stains me yellow with the crime
and she's a hard to beat trans-killer of a whore
meeting a death on motorbike
oh baby, baby, thank you for the time
and she would hesitate and say his name in vain
wearing a face i can recall
and you would feel that oh so many years
she'd bend her finger like a knife
oh baby, baby, thank you for the time
throughout the history of our little world
god is undifferent to our plight
is the eternal truth of the violent soul
the very ordinary fight
my generations got our backs against the wall
nothing's wrong and nothing's right
head on collision with the leaders of the war
takes my intelligence tonight
