John Cale - Russian Roulette

They rush him into somewhere
He's dancing in his chains
And the traitor's melancholy
Feeling out of place
And he will have to dig
For miles underground of soil
If the freshmen
Dizzy from turning their back

On everyone started
Well, everybody is disguised
Everybody is distressed
Distrust, disgusting Well, behind the sanatory
Knocking beauty
That looses out on each and every song
Behind the stairs of blood banks are
The park bench creatures that belong
Hey, John Wayne, he can feel no pain
Cause he's got no brain
He's riding horses to Acropolis and back
Just like a former crosseyed catholic
Like another crosseyed former proddy
For all the creatures that belong
That material safety ain't a safety found in numbers
But they're never getting slumber