Bruce Dickinson - Sacred Cowboys
With A Sense Of Irony Everyone You See Is Chasing Their Illusions Take A Dive Or Sink Or Swim, But In The End You’re In The Same Pollution In Your World Escape Is Swift, The Nonsense List Is All You Need To Know Ecstasy, The Cult Of Me Provides Our Institutions In The Land Of Dreams, You Make The Right Connections, Then You’ll Be The Hero You Can Join The Saviours Of Our Culture, Vultures Circling Overhead My Sky You Can Live Forever With A Grave That Stands Where People Used To Function Like The Sin Of Gluttony Won’t Set You Free, But Betty Ford Can Help You Try You Can Get All The Things You Never Needed You Can Sell People Crap And Make Them Eat It But Where Is Our John Wayne Where’s Our Sacred Cowboy Now? There’s No Indians Left To Kill Where Are The Indians On The Hill? People Die With Oxygen And All Their Money Can’t Afford A Breath People Starving Everywhere And Staring In The Face Of Death You Can Be The Saviour Of The Poor Making Up The Policies To Open Up The Back Door... You Can Get All The Things You Never Needed Prostitutes And Politicians Laying In Their Beds Together You Can Sell People Crap And Make Them Eat It Where Is Our John Wayne Where’s Our Sacred Cowboy Now? Where Are The Indians On The Hill? There’s No Indians Left To Kill Where’s Our Sacred Cowboy Now? Where Is Our John Wayne Where Are The Indians On The Hill? There’s No Indians Left To Kill You Can Get All The Things You Never Needed You Can Sell People Crap And Make Them Eat It...eat It! Where’s Our Sacred Cowboy Now? There’s No Indians Left To Kill Where Is Our John Wayne Where Are The Indians On The Hill? Where Is Our John Wayne Where’s Our Sacred Cowboy Now? Where Are The Indians On The Hill? There’s No Indians Left To...kill
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