Il testo della A blues for buddha

We're running guns to a holy war
For soldiers of the soul
Where right and wrong come apart at the seams
And fear is on patrol
In the mad mad world
Of a lost newsreel
Little children sing

A blues for buddha, buddha
The dollar is our king
A blues for buddha, buddha
The dollar is our king

We're making friends with a foreign power
Through telescopic sights
A quiet cocktail during happy hour
For the exploitation rights
In the mad mad world
Of a lost newsreel
Teach your kids to sing

A blues for buddha, buddha
The dollar is our king
A blues for buddha, buddha
The dollar is our king
The dollar is our king
The dollar is our king