He was the river boat gambler
|
He was the son of the chief of police
|
He drove around in a Rambler
|
He had a message from the chief
|
He drove around in a Rambler
|
He had a message from the chief
|
He was the river boat gambler
|
He was the son of the chief of police
|
He was the river boat gambler
|
He was the son of the chief of police
|
And old Joe
|
Did and said as he would
|
Took all the shopping carts from the mall
|
And took them to Utah
|
Which was Zion
|
He built an empire out of the desert
|
Out of the dust and the sand, just like Las Vegas
|
But he never took the rap that the Mafia did
|
And he thought the Indians were some lost thirteen dudes
|
But he didn't treat them any better
|
And they were never on his side
|
They drove their pick-up trucks out into the desert
|
Into a ditch along the side of the road
|
And acted like they were drunk
|
All the time
|
And old Joe had thirteen beady-eyed babies
|
One of whom I used to go to school with
|
He'd drive his car at a hundred ten down the alley way
|
Throwing cinder blocks at trash cans
|
And I declare on this occasion
|
I've never seen this heaven or this place any differently
|
But now and then I dream of the flying saucers and they're coming to take us
|
away
|
|
-----------------
|
The History of Utah
|
| Camper Van Beethoven |
