Take a little walk to a country town, and go across the track
Where the fire duct looms like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the board of fines and the humming wire
Hey man, you know you‘re never coming back
Aross the square, cross the bridge, cross the mill, past the stack
On the gathering storm comes a tall handsome man
With a dusty black coat and 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 the hole, heal your shrinking soul
But there won‘t 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-a whispering his name through this dissapearing land
But hidden in his coat is a red right hand
You don‘t have 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, ‘cause here he comes
Through the ghetto and the barrio and the valley and the slum
His shadow is cast whereever he stands
Got some 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 nowhere, but he ain‘t what he seems
You‘ll see him in your head, on the TV screen.. 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.