written by Warren Zevon and Larry Klein. We're having a party. We're burning it down. We're building an idol. He's sad but he don't frown. He's the cream of the crop. So we're making him god. Start writing this down. When I give you the nod. Them Coptic monks. Knew how to keep it real. That Rosicrucian thing. That Zoroastrian deal. Well they might be wrong. They don't give a damn. Long as they don't run out. Of sacrificial lambs. Eat my dust. And I'll clean your clock. Eat my dust. And we'll reel and rock. Eat my dust. And I'll be your man. You can be my. Sacrificial lamb. Madame Blavansky. And her friends. Changed lead into gold. And back again. Krishnamurti said. "I'll set you free. Write a check. and make it out to me". Take a look. At my family tree. Every brother and sister. Wants something for free. You get what pay for. From me my friend. Nothing for nothing. Forever amen. Eat my dust. You can touch my stole. Eat my dust. And we'll rock and roll. Eat my dust. And I'll be your man. You can be my. Sacrificial lamb. Smokey and the Bandit. And Saddam Hussein. Were staying up late. And acting insane. Along with Russell Crowe. And Hafez Assad. Start taking this down. When I give you the nod. The boys are all ready. They've laid out the plans. They're setting the stage. For the man-made man. We've worked out the kinks. In your DNA. So sayonara kid. Have a nice day. Eat my dust. And I'll clean your clock. Eat my dust. And we'll reel and rock. Eat my dust. And I'll be your man. You can be my. Sacrificial lamb.