You got 48 hours to go
Best start wrestling with your soul
Because a Texas boy's got a big hard
On for you, man
You got 48 hours to go
Better climb up out your hole or burrow in deep
Burrow in deep burrow in deep
Like a tick, like a tick like a tick, man
Runaway and live to Saddam-ize another day
You ain't got time to shit or pray
Cuz the dogs of rationale have gone astray
They've gone astray
You got 48 hours left
You can almost smell his breath
It smells of high horse
It smells of high horse
You got 48 hours to go
And they're coming win, place or show
So lay down your money
Lay down your money
Are you bettin' on the Yanks
In the clanky old tanks?
Are you firing up the Kroner
Are you firing up the Francs?
When you're 48 hours done
Will they find that smoking gun or a basket of snipe
A bucket of tripe, some asses to wipe
It's all just hipe cuz there's oil to swipe
You got 48 hours to go
