| Leaning over the piranha pool
|
| You just wave your magic wand
|
| Dangling your fingertips
|
| Into the world of the just beyond
|
| Sitting ever so quietly
|
| In your private dining room
|
| Guiding the waves of destiny
|
| Into the face of oblivion
|
| So you’d rather been an opera star
|
| At the turn of the century
|
| Well you never asked for this miracle trip
|
| A genius in the military
|
| You’re sincerely surprised with your own success
|
| Hanging out with the judges and the corporate heads
|
| You never anticipate the final toll
|
| Still shining all your medals
|
| For the final curtain call
|
| You’re always talking 'bout the here and after
|
| But it don’t make much sense to me
|
| Still for all the men that you condemn
|
| Well I hope there’s some kind of heaven
|
| And there’s got to be some kind of hell for you
|
| Leaning over the piranha pool
|
| You just wave your magic wand
|
| Dangling your fingertips
|
| Into the world of the just beyond
|
| Sitting ever so quietly
|
| In your private dining room
|
| Guiding the waves of destiny
|
| Into the face of oblivion
|
| You’re always talking about the here and after
|
| But it don’t make much sense to me
|
| Still for all the men that you condemn
|
| Well I hope there’s some kind of heaven
|
| And there’s got to be some kind of hell for you |