The panorama of the city is wrong

In fact the city seems to be gone

Burning rubber burning smoke in my eyes

There's a flat burning junkheap for twenty square miles They took it into the nuclear mine

Judging by this, they left nothing behind

Down in the bunkers in the crust of the earth

Now crouch the wealthy and the noble of birth If I could a ride a train around the city

That holds this as our fate

I'd hide from electro-circuit central

To the shock inducer gate Not forgetting the by-pass

Across the Washington hooks

Through the phones and desks and screens

Of the Kremlin's crook of crooks There's some panel in a circuit board

A destination of the override

Scanning the wild wind

Blowing through the Berlin corridor Spotlit in a palace, shielded from dust

Malfunction or not, the failsafe is the crux

So far away from us, shaking with the mystery tears

One lonely night in Ladbroke Grove Far away in the deserts of Omaha

They got it nailed down-swiss tight

The bank notes of Europe, the emperors and kings

Curl in the autumn as the burning of leaves

And I've cleaned my black guitar