In the God pod singing no God but Allah You always the crude oil I pumped from the Shah And the cold world thaw, break Murphy's Law Inshallah, get cut by a circular saw Iron fisted future, make millions, see billions Sidestepping neuters with eyes on the ceiling Flat screen scenes driving magazines To lean towards right-leaning thieves Fiends in the terminal with limousines Carrying my network dreams Can you find the find print in dark tint Bottom lines, high percents, pipelines, sinking in Alaska I'm drinking in disaster, I had Mexico locked way before NAFDA Don't mention Iraq if I don't have to, trade in ballads Domination challenge, childhood commodities Embrace the malice, through the looking glass, find me with Alice I got diamond cutters, guns and butter Carpet bomb the unneeded clutter, go ahead and shutter I'll be damned if I'm not driving the nicest prices My incoming shadow on the right list Fix prices with tax shelter devices Who's dealing to who? I got meals for two at the Seasons How about you, looking conglomerate profit targets Is there anything more beautiful than the market Turmoil in Africa, hello, hello, can you hear me, hello We're having some problems with out satellite uplink Hello, there we go, hello, hello, this is Gavin McSpinach Live from West Africa, where it seems like as soon as One battle's finished, another one's just beginning Earlier today there was heavy shelling, and from what The locals are telling, rebel forces have surrounded the Capital, refugees are trapped between Dem and loyalist Irregulars, the brutal battle pitting orthodox and secular Ethnic rivalry, we can here kalashnikovs firing and the Thud of mortars, it appears to be a battle without borders Or conscience as the region is torn by disorder, I came Across an old man by the roadside of [?], when he learned I was a BBC reporter he had this to say: "In our hearts of darkness literate and poor But by the light of civilization however dim we can make war Rifles and bibles, that's what we got two hands for The village is no more, weeds push through the floor And the earth nourishes minds like yams' harvest times Artillery shells are tangled in vines, reap what you plow We need bullets now, vultures preening atop the Sun-bleached bones of a cow, remains of a dowery unpaid The ancestors wander alone and afraid, bondage frayed History unmade, nothing left to trade, sold and paid With useless tradition, give me a rocket propel grenade Bits of plastic and glass, that which it seizes, better yet A visa Manchester, Nice, Rotterdam, when life is easier Hello Herroditus, Leopold, Livingstone and Rhodes, a prodigal Returns to the metropole, to temples built with blood and gold As you instructed we have sold our souls Can it be you've forgotten, we have not lessoned So righteously taught, modes is a snake head Part the Mediterranean, things'll never be the same again" [?] the regime is in danger of being overrun