Your country raised you 
your country fed you 
And just like any other country 
It will break you 
On front line send you 
Tax the [bad word] out of you 
And just like any other country 
It will lock you up you! 

But unfortunately there'll be no judgement day 
It would be kind of fun to see 
What they would have to say 
When the god they preached 
Would actually be there 
And all who didn't like The Stooges 
Would go to [bad word] [bad word]  

What are all these countries 
How did they appear? 
Who cut up the cake? 
Who brought up all this gear? 
Did it have to do anything 
With its people's will? 
I don't know, I don't know 
I don't know my dear... 

But even all the garbage 
they pour over our eyes 
Does not prevent us from living 
Most magical of lifes 

Now it's six in the morning 
I'm down in New Orleans 
Sister paintings on the wall 
They will speak to me 
And up later on we resume salutations 
to the rest of local Tribal Connections