Nobody's in the American Bar tonight And no one can make my usual White Russian. No one's here to stop the world Except for me And my oil on water on syrup in a glass. Everybody's missing it! The Big Shot! The Golden Torch to carry us to a quicker eternity! I could carry them along with me, but they always ignore, Pretend to not comprehend. Don't they understand? – I am the savior! I am footprints upon the moon! I am the hand penetrating the water to pull you to shore! Why choose to keep on around this senseless land? Perhaps they don't want to go where I'm headed. But I have yet another soul pocketed, Placed in glass jars of rotting eagle's race. City of sampled orange beaches I've made I take another shot of its seas and compensate for its foreign taste.