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(The ENGINEER is making his way furtively through the city. SOLDIERS seem to |
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be everywhere.) |
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ENGINEER |
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If you want to die in bed |
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Follow my example |
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When you see a cloud ahead |
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It's time to show your class |
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Hit the door before |
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They make a target of your ass |
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If you want to die in bed |
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In times of revolution |
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When the flag they fly is red |
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Let pride fill up your chest |
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Meanwhile pack a sack |
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And take the first boat heading west |
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(He enters the abandoned backroom of what was once "Dreamland", opens a |
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trapdoor in the floor and removes a tin box. He opens it.) |
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My precious souvenirs |
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Of all the golden years |
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Rolex watches in steel |
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That look practically real |
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I'll need a little stock |
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To start me in Bangkok! |
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If you want to die in bed |
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Forget about your karma |
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When your life hangs by a thread |
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Don't cry about the fates |
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Grab a stash of cash |
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And plan a rest'rant in the States |
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Let me stop for a bit |
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This was my greatest hit |
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Miss Saigon in her crown |
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I made queen of the town |
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I got 'em paying more |
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For just another whore |
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Here I come, USA |
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Your next champ's on his way |
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For men will always be men |
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The rules are the same |
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For kings or for clerks |
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Give me Francs, or Dollars or Yen |
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I'll set up a game |
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I know how it works |
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Why was I born of a race |
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That thinks only of rice |
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And hates entrepreneurs? |
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Me, I belong in a place |
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Where a man sets his price |
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And you pay, and he's yours |
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I should be... American! |
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Where every promise lands |
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And every businessman knows where he stands |
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First stop Bangkok then I roam |
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Cross that ocean white with foam |
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To the place that's my heart's true home |
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America! |
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If you want to die in bed |
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En route to your nirvana |
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You grab a chance and plunge ahead |
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And go where people win |
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Heaven's there... but, shit! |
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You need a visa to get in! |
