| This old town is filled with sin it’ll swallow you in |
| If you’ve got some money to burn |
| Take it home right away, you’ve got three years to pay |
| But Satan is waiting his turn |
| This old earthquake’s gonna leave me in the poorhouse |
| It seems like this whole town’s insane |
| On the thirty-first floor a gold-plated door |
| Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain |
| The scientists say it’ll all wash away |
| But we don’t believe anymore |
| 'Cause we’ve got our recruits and our green mohair suits |
| So please show your I.D. at the door |
| This old earthquake’s gonna leave me in the poorhouse |
| It seems like this whole town’s insane |
| On the thirty-first floor a gold-plated door |
| Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain |
| A friend came around tried to clean up this town |
| His ideas made some people mad |
| He trusted his crowd so he spoke right out loud |
| And they lost the best friend they had |
| This old earthquake’s gonna leave me in the poorhouse |
| It seems like this whole town’s insane |
| On the thirty-first floor a gold-plated door |
| Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain |
| On the thirty-first floor your gold-plated door |
| Won’t keep out the Lord’s burning rain |