Bruce Dickinson - Sacred Cowboys

(woo, hey)

Mira, mira, mira, andale, andale, yeah-ow!

[spoken:]

With a sense of irony, everyone you see

Is chasing their illusions

Take a dive, or sink, or swim

But in the end youre in the same pollution

In your world, escape is swift

The nonsense list is all you need to know

In the land of dreams, you make the right connections

Then youll be the hero...ecstasy

The cult of me provides our institutions

You can live forever with a grave that stands

Where people used to function

You can join the saviors of our culture

Vultures circling overhead my sky

Like the sin of gluttony wont set you free

(but betty ford can help you try)

You can get all the things you never needed

You can sell people crap and make them eat it

But where is our john wayne? 

Wheres our sacred cowboy now? 

Where are the indians on the hill? 

Theres no indians left to kill

[spoken:]

People die with oxygen

And all their money cant afford a breath

People starving everywhere

And staring in the face of death

Prostitutes and politicians

Lying in their bed together

You can be the savior of the poor

Making up the policies to open up the back door...

You can get all the things you never needed

You can sell people crap and make them eat it

Where is our john wayne? 

Wheres our sacred cowboys now? 

Where are the indians on the hill? 

Theres no indians left to kill

Where is our john wayne? 

Wheres our sacred cowboy now? 

Where are the indians on the hill? 

Theres no indians left to kill

You can get all the things you never needed

You can sell people crap and make them eat it

Eat it

There is no john wayne

Wheres our sacred cowboys now? 

Where are the indians on the hill? 

Theres no indians left to kill

Where is our john wayne? 

Wheres our sacred cowboy now? 

Where are the indians on the hill? 

Theres no indians left to...

Kill