Them Crooked Vultures

Painted as monsters,
Borracho, cansado
Do you know what the people say?
Plucked from the garden
Of wicked beliefs
I offer a rose
& smile with harmless teeth
Then slick back my hair,
You know the devil's in there
Alone in the garden
Like lumbering giants
In a shameful parade
We came to ruin all
& make a rotten trade
So roll over....