Well, we're looking at the cover, spending all our time just staring at the magazine,
Well, look who's on the cover wasting all our time - some pseudo-fascist hero machine,
Well, that's no space for a human being; that man is not a hero or saint,
When somewhere in deepest America grown men weep at the sound of his name.
So it goes...
All the girls named Gloria sing sweetly out of key,
The sun rose in the west today, accidents in the land of the free.
Well, I grew up where they showed you the body count in colour, on the dinner TV,
And I've been numbed, so insensitive that all I can think about is you and me,
You know, children from the best homes they all have guns and butter,
They have their share of murder blue,
Well, it's not such a wiggy-awesome good-time when a shopping mall militia point their cannons at you,
So it goes....
All the girls named Gloria sing sweetly out of key,
The sun rose in the west today, accidents in the land of the free,
I love this world harder in my imagination than my conscience should allow,
But accidents do happen, accidents will happen,
Don't you dare to rush me now.
Everyone believes in the stories 'bout the Cadillacs,
Everybody's got enough to eat,
People always keep their eyes glued to the ground, when a desperate man - he's gotta cling to the street,
And I swear to myself I will help them, I will be an upstanding man,
But when I walk by, and I hear them cry, that money just sticks to my hand,
What's wrong with me?
All the girls named Gloria sing sweetly out of key,
The sun rose in the west today, accidents in the land of the free,
I love this world harder in my imagination than my conscience should allow,
But accidents do happen, accidents will happen,
Don't you dare to rush me now.
