P.U.S.A. Lyrics

Drove around till five o'clock; it was drivers day
I drove the driver way
Now I must speed up, get up, wipe up everything I've got
Wanna hit the pretty ice in my big city with my big clichés
And if I get out, give up, get along with myself
I've gotta get it on the dance floor, baby, where
In the Post United States of America
I've got my brotherhood to help me take 'em there
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America

Police asked me where to go in a "Nowhereland"
I'm in a state of sand
And if I pray well, make hell, gee swell, I'll be okay
Brother on my right and left - they don't give a s*** 'bout my bottomless pit
And I know I will turn 'em, all you mothers in and out
I've gotta get it on the dance floor, baby, where
In the Post United States of America
I've got my brotherhood to help me take 'em there
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America
Love me, fool me, drink my wine
In the Post United States of America
I wanna go with those who live and dies
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America
In the Post United States of America