She's got cigarette on each arm She's got the lily-white cavity crazes She's got a carborator tied to the moon Pink eyes looking to the food of the ages
She's alone in the new pollution
She's got a hand on a wheel of pain She can talk to the mangling strangers She can sleep in a fiery bog
Throwing troubles to the dying embers
[Beck, The New Pollution lyrics and video on http://crocmusic.com/]
She's alone in the new pollution
She's got a paradise camoflauge Like a whip-crack sending me shivers She's a boat through a strip-mine ocean Riding low on the drunken rivers
She's alone in the new pollution
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