| Hey you say you like the way
|
| The cowboys tip their hats and say
|
| «How's it goin', ma’am?»
|
| But you’re never quite clear
|
| If their glares are sincere
|
| Or really only just second hand
|
| To you it’s all roses
|
| It’s a lavender haze
|
| The man is a marvel
|
| It’s a shame about his brains
|
| But that’s okay you say
|
| «He's got straight teeth
|
| And it’s good sex»
|
| You look to the sky
|
| You look to the man
|
| You claim innocence
|
| And not to understand
|
| Or do you?
|
| Do you?
|
| There’s a big man wearing a white suit
|
| And patent leather shoes
|
| He wants to take his monkeys
|
| To see the kids at the zoo
|
| Cause the gypsy on the corner said
|
| «Hey, mister, you can’t lose»
|
| And it’s your first day at the track
|
| You feel that heat on your back
|
| We all want to find a way
|
| To beat the system
|
| Find some rhythm in the madness
|
| Get down on your knees and pray
|
| Say, «I'll do whatever you want, God
|
| Just let me have my way»
|
| Well will you?
|
| Will you?
|
| Come on all you merry men
|
| Rally your cry
|
| Dance with the devil
|
| For tomorrow we’ll surely
|
| Hey, hey, blow the men down
|
| You with all your cigarettes
|
| And cool stares
|
| Filled with blank glares
|
| And loaded regrets
|
| Just like the girls today
|
| With nothing to say
|
| No more pigtails and pony rides
|
| They’re sophisticated
|
| They sip on lattes and have their eyes
|
| On a bigger prize
|
| We shake our fists and say
|
| «Well, good golly we’re mad
|
| That God kills children
|
| With our very own hands»
|
| We claim innocence
|
| And not to understand
|
| Or do we?
|
| Do we?
|
| Come on all you merry men
|
| Rally your cry
|
| Dance with the devil
|
| For tomorrow we’ll surely
|
| Hey, hey, blow the men down
|
| Blow the men down
|
| Hey, hey |