Well uh, I see fingers and Hands and shades of faces Reaching up but not quite touching the promised land I hear pleas and prayers in a desperate whisper, saying Oh Lord, please give us a helping hand, yeah yeah Way down in the background I see the frustrated souls and cities burning And all across the water, baby I see weapons barking out the sting of death And up there in the clouds I can imagine the UFOs Chuckling themselves, laughing, they're saying Those people so uptight They sure know how to make a mess Hey! Back at the saloon My tears mix and mildew with my drink Can't really tell my feet from the sawdust on the floor But as far as I know They may even try to wrap me with cellophane and sell me Brothers, help me And don't worry about looking at the score, yeah yeah