[Verse 1]
The world is an overflowing gutter
It bubbles with a brine of shit and blood
And those who keep their eyes upon the heavens
Are the ones who will wind up faced down in the mud

[Verse 2]
It's easy to speak of grand ambition
It's easy to pretend you're innocent
But lest you get distracted by the suffering of your sister
Being practical and trying to pay the rent

[Verse 3]
Heaven has been promised to the righteous
Hell's an overpopulated pit
Purgatory's given to the dreamers
But the world belongs to those who plough the shit

[Verse 4]
There's a special place in Hell for fancy talkers
There’s a special place in Heaven for the whores
There's a throne reserved for those with good ideas
Stolen by the demagogues who wanted more

[Verse 5]
The flowers and the laces in the market
Are all purchased by the peddlers of the flesh
But those who bring relief and carnal pleasure
Sometimes serve the needs of mankind for the best
[Verse 6]
Cast off the limitations of the righteous
There are good deeds only devils can commit
Let us dance between the teardrops of the angels
For the world belongs to those who plough the shit

[Spoken Interlude]
At last, the Supreme Maker decreed that this creature, to whom he could give nothing wholly his own, should have a share in the particular endowment of every other creature. Taking man, therefore, this creature of indeterminate image, he set him in the middle of the world and thus spoke to him:

"We have given you, O Adam, no visage proper to yourself, no endowment properly your own, in order that whatever place, whatever form, whatever gifts you may, with premeditation, select, these same may you have and possess through your own judgement and decision. We have made you a creature neither of heaven nor of Earth! Neither mortal nor immortal! In order that you may, as the free and proud shaper of your own being, fashion yourself in the form you may prefer. It will be in your power to descend to the lower, brutish forms of life. You will be able, through your own judgement and decision, to rise again to the superior orders whose life is divine!"

[Verse 7]
The dead become the emperors of memory
The saints have all been eaten by the worms
The living wield the right to twist the future
And the sinners all have practical concerns

[Verse 8]
The sentinels with rifles on the border
On the pretences of charity are swept
But let's not talk of slipping into nightmare
For the day is run by those who haven't slept

[Verse 9]
So throw away the vestments of the righteous
Make sure the body armor snugly fits
The souls have taken flight now from the boathouse
And the world belongs to those who plough the shit