There’s a cloud over my shoulder
Dirt under my thumbnail
President in a pinstripe suit finds it hard
to launder the loot and bury Knute

In the same breath as greeting Saddam and Saddat,
sit down when you’re drinking, you can’t do that

Theres a silver lined cloud over my shoulder
a thorium cloud seeping over and over
theres not enough water for my beautiful baby
somebody save me, hells too hot for babies!

My beautiful moratorium burns while Rome fiddles
its for the kids, I keep telling you, the piggies in the middle
they are all that make sense in this cirque-de-sol world
the circle of life is an inaccurate parrallel

Alpine horns trumpet the dawn of the mountain age
for all the rage its time that you act your age
fingernails on the blackboard of time
send freaking shivers down your spine

[Rousing Chorus]
Cloud over my shoulder
Could it be any bolder
One more cigarette then I’m off to my destiny
Dropping my concrete bomb.

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