America is nothing but a backroom
in constant desquamation .
Compulsion where beast and brainiac
merge together...
Temple hustlers are just shady dealers
selling empty souls .
Barbie is donald duck\'s submissive chick
and the old stepmother looks at the world
with her iron eyes .
I shake black hands that give birth
by killing ragdolls between four ropes
of insanity...
In the shadow of dream zero its always cold.
So ,I outta here with this rapacious horde
of believers on the road to hell ...
But I know that god will be waiting for me.
Or an old dog with a calm look .
Mom, tomorrow will no longer be
a day of infamy !
The fall harvest calls me back home.
Would I still be this illusion
drafting from a river to the ocean ?
In my season of wandering
I will hitch a ride to fate .
Maybe Jack will stop to let me read
a passage from his memoirs ?
Or,who knows, a pastor from another era ?
And then I would built a life
with an ebony girl
in a remote corner of Mississipi...
Bonnie and clyde will be my neighbors
and invite me over for thanksgiving...
Liberty offers me an amendment
to live far from a house of the rising sun...
Tomorrow ,you who have lost everything ,
your forever stiff will shine
in the hall of female !
In this baller crib ,where the stars
never sleep ,
the temple merchants chant me
the happy-go- lucky low-end ...