Sacred Cowboys Lyrics
Sacred Cowboys Lyrics |
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Sacred Cowboys Lyricsby Bruce Dickinson Buy album CD: Balls To Picasso (woo, hey) Mira, mira, mira, andale, andale, yeah-ow! [Spoken:] 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 In the land of dreams, you make the right connections Then you'll be the hero...ecstasy The cult of 'me' provides our institutions You can live forever with a grave that stands Where people used to function You can join the saviors of our culture Vultures circling overhead my sky 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? Where are the Indians on the hill? There's no Indians left to kill [Spoken:] People die with oxygen And all their money can't afford a breath People starving everywhere And staring in the face of death Prostitutes and politicians Lying in their bed together You can be the savior of the poor Making up the policies to open up the back door... You can get all the things you never needed You can sell people crap and make them eat it Where is our John Wayne? Where's our sacred cowboys now? Where are the Indians on the hill? There's no Indians left to kill 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 You can get all the things you never needed You can sell people crap and make them eat it Eat it There is no John Wayne Where's our sacred cowboys now? Where are the Indians on the hill? There's no Indians left to kill 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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