Take a little walk to the edge of town and go across the tracksWhere the viaduct looms like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracksWhere secrets lie in the border fires in the humming wiresWell, you know You're never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stacksOn a gathering storm comes a tall handsome manIn a dusty black coat with a red right hand
He'll wrap you in his arms and tell you that you've been a good boyHe'll rekindle all the dreams it took you a lifetime to destroyHe'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soulAnd there won't be a single thing that you can do
He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guruThey're whispering his name 'cross this disappearing landBut hidden in his coat is a red right hand
You don't have no money? He'll get you someIf you haven't got no car, he'll get you oneYou've got no self-respect, you feel like an insectWell, don't you worry, buddy, 'cause here he comesThrough the ghettos and the barrows and the Bowery and the slumA shadow is cast wherever he standsStacks of green paper in his red right hand
You'll see him in your nightmares, you'll see him in your dreamsHe'll appear out of nowhere, but he's not what he seemsYou'll see him in your head on the TV screenHey, buddy, I'm warning you to turn it off
He's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guruYou're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan
Designed and directed by his red right hand
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