Wolf City Letra

Without pity

Your glory

Is like ice cream

Dripping on the skin of a girl

And your voodoo-graph

Is going to conquer the world

While the greyhound

Leans back in the president's chair

And thousands of children

On their way home

Gasp for fresh air

Your servants

Set up a lean-horse-monument

In the alley of cars

A queue with no end

And thousands of cows

Rush into bars

On a wall I see

Many strange signs

They say: Johnny B. Goode!