Black scene leather kid, real Ameri-kid
Shove off or move my mountain
Calm these bitter bears and I'll thank you for punching a hole
And sinking my balloon. Hey!

Nag my conscience, inferior conscience
Like I'm a lunatic waiting to scream
Henpecked by heroes with kingdoms of none
We're baking like mice in the sun

You are following. You are following
You were hoping to find something that shines
You are out of your mind
To be so in love with this Capitol World!

Searching you go searching for fawna
with absinthe in your coffee and a gun in your hand
You should not be searching for ghosts in this land
I say . . . My God! I say

...skeletons in your head open your eyes, you'll find...

Swing high, swing low.