Beck - The New Pollution

She`s got cigarette on each arm
She`s got the lily-white cavity crazes
She`s got a carburator tied to the moon
Pink eyes looking to the food of the ages
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s got a hand on a wheel of pain
She can talk to the mangling strangers
She can sleep in a fiery bog
Throwing troubles to the dying embers
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s got a paradise camoflauge
Like a whip-crack sending me shivers
She`s the boat in a strip mine ocean
Riding low on the drunken rivers
She`s alone in the new pollution
She`s alone in the new pollution