fame throwa pass out the gold,
the diamon watch the last reward,
all the things we had before
you sold us out and took it all
head-borne cries from zenith sluts
astral rites from dead-end ruts
these ends are sickened wars [x2]
he\'s one of our nation\'s spies
he\'s one of our first recruits
i click with her leather thighs
he\'s one of our first recruits
how can you know?
in the distance lies a grower,
nee rudolph, king fame throwa,
son of groupie, bed-worn sexan
spent his cash convincing us
that the desert was a starscape
took our lives for satellites so we could cry:
naked, naked, foul.
he\'s one of our nation\'s spies
he\'s one of our first recruits
i click with her leather thighs
he\'s one of our first recruits
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