She's got cigarette on each arm
 She's got the lily-white cavity crazes
 She's got a carburetor tied to the moon
 Pink eyes looking to the food of the ages

 She's alone in the new pollution
 She's alone in the new pollution

 She's got a hand on a wheel of pain
 She can talk to the mangling strangers
 She can sleep in a fiery bog
 Throwing troubles to the dying embers

 She's alone in the new pollution
 She's alone in the new pollution
 She's alone in the new pollution
 She's alone in the new pollution

 She's got a paradise camouflage
 Like a whip-crack sending me shivers
 She's the boat in a strip mine ocean
 Riding low on the [bad word] rivers

 She's alone in the new pollution
 She's alone in the new pollution