Marching down the highway
by the rusty gates
bringing in the harvest
of our inner state
waiting for the saviour
swingin' in the trees
living on like always
like a bleeding monster awaiting ---

oh where have you gone, my dearest friend?
over the hill and down the stream!
oh where will we meet, we'll meet again?
oh I don't know, where we will meet, will meet again.

all you noble ladies,
draw another line
artificial nations
waiting for a sign
all you selfish saviours
dream your silly dreams
all you moneymakers
you don't cast no shadows, face it

oh where have you gone, my dearest friend?
over the hill and down the stream!
oh where will we meet, we'll meet again?
oh I don't know, where we will meet, will meet again."