Take a little walk to the edge of town, go across the tracks
Where the viaduct looms like a bird of doom, as it shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the border fires, in the humming wires,
Hey man you know you're never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with a red right hand.
He'll wrap you in his arms tell you that you've been a good boy
He'll rekindle all the dreams it took you a lifetime to destroy.
He'll reach deep into your soul, steal your shrinking soul
but there wont be a single thing that you can do
He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru
They're whispering his name though this disapearing land
But hidden in his coat is a red right hand
You don't own no money? He'll get you some
You don't have no car? He'll get you one
You don't have no self respect you feel like an insect,
Well don't you worry buddy coz here he comes
Through the ghettos and the barrio and the bowery and the slums
A shadow is cast where ever he stands
Stacks of green paper in his red right hand
You'll see him in your nightmares, you'll see him in your dreams
He'll appear out of no where but he ain't what he seems
You'll see him in your head, on the TV screen
And hey buddy, I'm warning you to
turn it off
He's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guru
You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan
designed and directed by his red right hand. 
Your new nightmare XXVII:
Linear Mode
