Here's Mr White, he's an executive

Here's Mrs White, she's an executive

Just like him

They drive a white Seville with bullet-proof glass

So they don't get killed when they're

Buying their cocain

Stuffing it up their noses

Showing their children why we're



Chorus:

Lost In America, lost In America

Living in circles like we're dreaming



Here's Capt'n Tom, he's with the CIA

He keeps us safe and sound from foreign enemy

He sells them guns and bombs and secret plans

So they can run when he finally gets caught

Living in Mexico

Writing a book about how we're



Chorus



Here's Jimmy-Jeff-Bob, he's with the NRA

He likes to keep his guns around the house

Just in case

Sundays he visits his son who's doing time for

Shooting someone

And we quietly stand by

Thoughtfully close our eyes

Fall on our knees and cry that we're 



Chorus