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There’s guns in the desert
Loose heads in the sand
Bankers in calculus
Dotting the Strand

There is an aging smile
Coming to mind
Flat cowboy hats left
In tracks left behind

That mine’s mine!
Dance, moddafokka!

There’s a fresh ballot
In somebody’s hand
Layers of pipeline
All over the land

Where the buck stops
There’s a buck to be made
Give us not freedom
But teach us the trade

That mine’s mine!
Dance, moddafokka!

This is when glory comes
Making pits with homemade bombs
All good virgins will wait up for you
But hang on, what’s a girl get
When she gets like you?
And they’re building an Ikea close to home


Progress is wonderful
Dance, moddafokka!