Your crawfish fingers and your dirty dregs Your sideways stingers and your wooden legs They´re throwing out jewels like rotten eggs ´Cause it´s Christmas in Siam and we´re rough on rats
Your scarecrow spiders and your shipwreck bones The fossilized bibles of Geronimo Jones His star-spangled army in their roadhouse clothes ´Cause a hero can´t bronze his soul and we´re rough on rats
There´s shattered glass on the dance floor A cop chaperoning a doll The testament of a landlord Who´s living in a hollow log
The burlap flowers and the cocaine dirt The horn of plenty in a desert of hurt The corduroy boy in the killjoy shirt He´s a stereotype on ice and we´re rough on rats
So what do you think you could take from the heap
Where the haystack needles are piled up cheap? You can buy what´s useless and steal what you need In the pink penitentiary and we´re rough on rats