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