In a texas town on the borderline / right off highway 79
There's a riverbed up around a bend that knows no joy / that knows no friend / two swollen bodies of baby ghosts make their way down to the coast / to see an ocean they've never seen / to see the people they'll never be

We gotta whole lotta money / we got our New York city
We gotta whole lotta nothing / we got a hold on that

Boy climbs up the Brooklyn bridge / maybe he'll jump, maybe he'll live / he says he's got a baby girl and she's on the way / but she's too young to know about this day anyways / and all the cameras are in the sky there to make sure this is televised / cause this is what makes ratings high / this is channel 9 coming to you live

We got our Boston, San Francisco we got our New York city
we got a whole lotta nothing / but we've got a hold on that yeah

And we harvest grain and we ship it off to a better place? To a better cause? And our politicians all shake hands / they smile and say were doin' the best we can