She's got cigarette on each arm She's got the lily-white cavity crazes She's got a carburetor tied to the moon Pink eyes looking to the food of the ages She's alone in the new pollution
She's got a hand on a wheel of pain She can talk to the mangling strangers She can sleep in a fiery bog Throwing troubles to the dying embers She's alone in the new pollution
She's got a paradise camouflage Like a whip-crack sending me shivers She's a boat through a strip-mine ocean Riding low on the drunken rivers