Take a little walk to the edge of town and go across the tracks
Where the viaduct looms, like a bird of doom as it shifts and cracks
Where secrets lie in the border fires in the humming wires
Hey man, you know you're never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with a red right hand
He'll wrap you in his arms, tell you that you've been a good boy
He'll rekindle all the dreams, it took you a lifetime to destroy
He'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soul
But there won't be a single thing you can do
He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru
They're whispering his name through this disappearing land
But hidden in his coat is his red right hand
You don't have no money? He'll get you some
You don't have no car? He'll get you one
You don't have no self-respect, you feel like an insect
Don't you worry buddy 'cause here he comes
Through the ghettos and the barrio and the Bowery and the slums
A shadow is cast wherever he stands
Stacks of green paper in his red right hand
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