Standing on the beach near the point; Feeling how to think with a joint, And with a bottle of booze, I wondered how can I lose, But they tell me that’s a sure way to die. But then I’m no believer, And you can see that it’s true That if you don’t come to join me, They’re going to sacrifice you. Cuz Uncle Sam may need you someday; Pay you what he thinks is good pay. But you don’t want to die; I think you see the sky Better from where you’re standing now. So don’t be a believer, Just take a look at what’s true. Those little boys in that White House Are going to sacrifice you. Circa 1983.