Fame Throwa pass out the gold   The diamond watch, the last reward   All the things we had before   You sold us out and took it all      Head-borne cries from zenith sluts   Astral rites from dead end ruts   These ends are sick end wars   These ends was sick end wars      It's one of our nation's spies   It's one of our first recruits   I click with her leather thighs   It's one of our first recruits      How can you know   In the distance lies a grower   Nee Rudolph King of Fame Throwa   Son of groupie, red-worn sexan      His cash convincing us   That the desert was a star scape   And took our lives for a   Satellite so we could cry      It's one of our nation's spies   It's one of our first recruits   I click with her leather thighs   It's one of our first recruits