Hell's a golf course
That sways like a drunken sailor
In tropicana breezes
And everyone there has day-glow suntans
And people try too hard to look like
Mr. Sammy Davis Jr.
And Jesus tends the green
The tips fall through his hands
Let's talk about it
Let's talk about it
Scream and shout it
Throw my ashes right up to the wind
And let that motion be a metaphor
That I might travel right back in time
And rest my head on
Walt Whitman's Beard
Walt Whitman's Beard
Heaven's a bar and I have seen
Rasputin and James Dean
Holding hands while the dirty drinks are poured
And His Holiness pulls out his proudness
A polyester leisure suit
And Andy Warhol runs screaming for the door
Let's talk about it
That sways like a drunken sailor
In tropicana breezes
And everyone there has day-glow suntans
And people try too hard to look like
Mr. Sammy Davis Jr.
And Jesus tends the green
The tips fall through his hands
Let's talk about it
Let's talk about it
Scream and shout it
Throw my ashes right up to the wind
And let that motion be a metaphor
That I might travel right back in time
And rest my head on
Walt Whitman's Beard
Walt Whitman's Beard
Heaven's a bar and I have seen
Rasputin and James Dean
Holding hands while the dirty drinks are poured
And His Holiness pulls out his proudness
A polyester leisure suit
And Andy Warhol runs screaming for the door
Let's talk about it