You see the ghosts of the buffalo. Moving both fierce and slow. Like glittering prophesies. On the edge of the horizon. As you drive glittering highways. And beaten-up by-ways. That straddle and girdle. A great and many-faced nation. There are lambs in the ghettos. Who worship their Gapettos. Believing in though never seeing. The strings they think bind them. So you write to our congressmen. With bleeding pens. Of the sorrow within. And in return they just send. Tickets to the latest Tom Hanks show. CHORUS:. Welcome to the new wild west. Each man for himself. A nation of civilized steeples. And lonely people. Welcome to the new wild west. There are so many fractions. And cue-card reactions. It's hard to keep clear. The possibilities here. 'Cause there's no force to unite them. Privilege has ruled for thousands of years. Wars have been fought with bibles and tears. Yet liberation can't deny the temptation. And soon becomes the oppressor. Show me a leader who's fit to lead. Who don't sew his seed in anything. Wounded enough to breed. Because after all what fun is power. If you can't act like a rock star?. CHORUS. See me I've been cruel. I've been petty and unkind. But I know my own mind. And since it seems clear. There's no one leading us here. The only thing left it appears. Is to task ourselves to be better each time. Then those before us. We'll be an army of theives. Of self-freed slaves. Of mild-mannered maids. We'll fight with whispers and blades. So get ready a new day is dawning. CHORUS.