Egyptian Cowboy

Strange raves on a Detroit beach 
  I was reaching for the rhythm but it's out of reach 
  She was talking to the Buick 
  She was cutting her tequila with bleach 
  And she said to me 

  There's no such thing as an Egyptian cowboy 
  Your pretty haircut can't help you now, boy 
  There's nothing we can do for you 
  Unless you're willing to kill 
  Hey, come on and kill 

  I think this city could have used a woman's touch 
  As I'm wading through the toxic waste and such 
  'Cause everybody here said I won't amount to much 
  Everybody here said I won't amount to much 
  When I go from point A to point BI want thrills and chills 
  And blood to spill 

  But there's never any people on the people mover 
  Public transit equivalent of Herbert Hoover 
  You're never gonna get anywhere 
  Because you're standing still, standing still 

  These songs don't write themselves 
  I've got a music workshop run by elves 
  Making dozens of records by the trends 
  Stocking our product on Ikea shelves 

  Let me state that 
  My state of mind, mind, mind 
  is just fine 

  Baby, that's the sound of the years going by 
  You can find me on the same bar stool just waiting to die 
  Three cheers to me, here's mud in your eye 
  I said, "Cheers to me, here's mud in your eye" 
  She came to close out my tab 
  So I was troubled and she took a stab 
  And she said to me 

  There's no such thing as an electric tuba 
  The Detroit River's not a good place to scuba 
  The only reason you're here today 
  Is 'cause we need you to kill 
  Yeah, kill 

  My songs are tasty pies 
  Fresh oven-baked and filled with lies 
  Gobbled up by the dozen by Neanderthal guys 
  Inhaling the aroma of Canadian lies 

  Oh my 
  Why, you got quite a lot of problems, don't you? 

  Shake that tambourine! 
  Shake that shaker machine! 
  Shake it, low 
  Shake it, high 
  Shake it 
  Shake it