There's a fish in my stomach a thousand years old Can't swim a full circle, the water's too cold Burnt out cars in my fingers, conveyor belts flow Right angles and steam whistles, nothing can grow A big-antlered deer stepping into the road A beautiful woman with her head in the stove The skyscrapers crumble heavy with rats The wind's full of beer cans and whiffle ball bats This fish in my stomach wears a full length mink But his teeth float in sherry in a jar by the sink He's the withered remains of rin tin tin taking his new cadillac out for a spin The endless sea of traffic lights never make a sound Like ben franklin's electric kite crashing to the ground And the winnebago skeletons beneath this bankrupt town