Rough On Rats

Your crawfish fingers and your dirty dregs Your sideways stingers and your wooden legs They're throwing out jewels like rotten eggs 'Cause it's Christmas in Siam and we're rough on rats Your scarecrow spiders and your shipwreck bones The fossilized bibles of Geronimo Jones His star-spangled army in their roadhouse clothes 'Cause a hero can't bronze his soul and we're rough on rats There's shattered glass on the dance floor A cop chaperoning a doll The testament of a landlord Who's living in a hollow log The burlap flowers and the cocaine dirt The horn of plenty in a desert of hurt The corduroy boy in the killjoy shirt He's a stereotype on ice and we're rough on rats So what do you think you could take from the heap Where the haystack needles are piled up cheap? You can buy what's useless and steal what you need In the pink penitentiary and we're rough on rats