The New Pollution
She's got cigarette on each armShe's got the lily-white cavity crazesShe's got a carburetor tied to the moonPink eyes looking to the food of the ages
She's alone in the new pollutionShe's alone in the new pollution
She's got a hand on a wheel of painShe can talk to the mangling strangersShe can sleep in a fiery bogThrowing troubles to the dying embers
She's alone in the new pollutionShe's alone in the new pollutionShe's alone in the new pollutionShe's alone in the new pollution
She's got a paradise camouflageLike a whip-crack sending me shiversShe's the boat in a strip mine oceanRiding low on the drunken rivers
She's alone in the new pollutionShe's alone in the new pollution