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Icy veined, Ivy leagued, Latter Day Techno-Sage
In an overground, leather bound, late model luxury cage
Scans the terrain with his Eagle Eye
Spies a field mouse scurrying by
And with a flick of his steering wheel
He cracks a smile at the piercing squeel
Franklin was a turkey
But I take to the sky
Rising up over purple mountains
Eagle I
And he says: "There are two types of people in this world"
And he says: "If I don't do it, someone else will"
And he says: "I am a creature of the economic jungle
And now is time to go for the kill"
Piss poor, omnivore, multi-munching motorgoat
In a button down, hole-in-the-ground, mustard gassed trench coat
Scours the terrain with unerring I
Leaving no witness, consuming the sky
And as reigns surely tighten 'round white knuckled hands
The horses are choking on foolish commands
Franklin was a turkey
But I take to the sky
Soaring high over purple mountains
Eagle I
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