The Departed Pumpkin

Take a little walk to a country town, and go across the trackWhere the fire duct looms like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracks Where secrets lie in the board of fines and the humming wireHey man, you know you're never coming backAross the square, cross the bridge, cross the mill, past the stackOn the gathering storm comes a tall handsome manWith a dusty black coat and a red right handHe'll wrap you in his arms, tell you that you've been a good boyHe'll rekindle all the dreams it took you a lifetime to destroyHe'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soulBut there won't be a single thing that you can doHe's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guruThey're-a whispering his name through this dissapearing landBut hidden in his coat is a red right handYou don't have no money, he'll get you someYou don't have no car, he'll get you oneYou don't have no self-respect, you feel like an insectWell, don't you worry buddy, 'cause here he comesThrough the ghetto and the barrio and the valley and the slumHis shadow is cast whereever he standsGot some green paper in his red right handYou'll see him in your nightmares, you'll see him in your dreamsHe'll appear out of nowhere, but he ain't what he seemsYou'll see him in your head, on the TV screen.. hey, buddy, i'm warning you to turn it offHe's a ghost, he's a god, he's a man, he's a guruYou're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic planDesigned and directed by his red right hand

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