You were on the fast train
Takin’ you to the airplane
I was on the slow train
Wrapped up in cellophane
They told me I’d be fine
Just as long as I had my health
But I never thought I’d have to push
The damn thing myself

There’s nothing comes easy
And there’s nothing comes free
But why do all the snipers
Always wanna meet me

I’m just sick of all the bullshit baby
Load the car, we’re gonna drive straight through
I’m just sick of all the bullshit, baby
Pack it up we’ll go to Mexico

The sandman brings the bad dream
The milkman brings the sour cream
The big man on the screen, screaming
Something ‘bout codeine
You’re the innocent machine
In a big shooting match
But the latch won’t catch
And you can’t jump the hatch

It’s a garbage dump
It’s a lump in the sump pump
A month on your rump
Riding something like a slump

Maybe it’s the wrong time
To turn around and run, but
I don’t really seem to be
Having much fun-wo wo wo wo wo—-

Bomb all the buildings
Make the whole town burn
And maybe then you might
Get a phone call returned
It starts with the thought
That the body isn’t clean
And it ends with the feeling that the
Grass isn’t green

It’s a foxtrot, snot-collecting
Murderer of hens
It’s a poolside preacher
Who’d kill Jesus again-


(lyrics: Dan Bern)

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