When the iceberg hit,
Oh they must have known,
God moves on the water
Like Casey Jones

So I walked downtown
On my telephone,
And took a lazy turn
Through the redeye zone

It was a five-band bill,
A two-dollar show
I saw the van out in front
From Idaho,

And the girl passed out
In the backseat trash
There were no way they'd make
Even a half a tank of gas

They looked sick and stoned
And strangely dressed
No one showed
From the local press

But I watched them walk
Through the bottom land,
And I wished that I played
In a rock & roll band

Hey, hey,
It was the fourteenth day of April

Well they closed it down,
With the sails in rags
And I swept up the fags
And the local mags

I threw the plastic cups
In the plastic bags,
And the cooks cleaned the kitchen
With the staggers and the jags

Ruination day,
And the sky was red
I went back to work,
And back to bed

And the iceberg broke,
And the Okies fled,
And the Great Emancipator
Took a bullet in the back of the head