Foreign fame and harsh names Dollar luck and rigged games The gasoline smell And the doorbell Linger as you roll away Egg on the pan and the same man Compromise claims A bossa nova fan And the sleeves gather dust As he anchors his trust in ethanol Hold to that song It won't be long The hard day's almost done Remember the hills and the fields there? Jethimadh and perfumed hair It's always been you The change you marched through Was it worth it all? Was it worth it all? Hold to that song It won't be long The hard day's almost done