Egyptian Cowboy

Strange raves on a Detroit bridge

I was reaching for the rhythm but it's out of reach

She was talking to the Buick

She was cutting the tequila with bleach

And she said to me

There's no such thing as an Egyptian cowboy

Your pretty haircut can't help you now, boy

There's nothing we can do for you unless you're willing to kill

Hey, come on and kill.

I think this city could have used a woman's touch

As I'm wading through the toxic waste and such

Cuz everybody here said I won't amount to much

Everybody here said I won't amount to much

When I go from point A to point B I want thrills and

Chills and blood to spill

But there's never any people on the people mover -

Public transit equivalent of Herbert Hoover

You're never gonna get anywhere because you're standing still

Standing still!

These songs don't write themselves

I've got a music workshop run by elves

Making dozens of records by the twelves

Stocking our product on Ikea shelves

Let me state

My state of mind, mind, mind

Is just fine.

Baby, that's the sound of the years going by

You can find me on the same bar stool just waiting to die.

Three cheers to me, here's mud in your eye.

I said, "Cheers to me, here's mud in your eye"

She came to close out my tab, so I was troubled and she took a stab

And she said to me

There's no such thing as an electric tuba

The Detroit River's not a good place to scuba

The only reason you're here today is cuz we need you to kill

Yeah, kill!

My songs are tasty pies,

Fresh oven-baked and filled with lies

Gobbled up by the dozen by Neanderthal guys

Inhaling the aroma of Canadian lies

Oh my, why you got quite a lot of problems, don't you?

Shake that tambourine!

Shake that shaker machine!

Shake it, low.

Shake it, high.

Shake it.

Shake it.