April the 14th

When the iceberg hit

Wasn't much to know

That God moves on the water

Like Casey Jones

So I walked downtown

On my telephone

And took a lazy turn

Through the red-eye zone

It was a five-band bill

A two-dollar show

I saw the van out in front

From Idaho

And the girl passed out

In the backseat trash

And there was no way they'd make

Even a half a tank of gas

They looked sick and stoned

And strangely dressed

No one showed

From the local press

But I watched 'em awhile

Through the bottom land

And I wished I played

In a rock and roll band

Hey, hey

It was the fourteenth day of April

Then they closed it down

With the sails and rags

And they swept up the fags

And the local rags

And threw the plastic cups

In the plastic bags

And the cooks cleaned the kitchen

With the staggers and the jags

Ruination Day

The sky was red

I went back to work

And back to bed

And the iceberg broke

And the Okies fled

And the Great Emancipator

Took a bullet in the back of the head

Hey