In the valley an iron lung
Lain beneath the blazing sun we baked, we baked
In the eyes of the elder ones-
Of the sheltered ones-
We’re Helter Skelter bums
We will never find out to see
We will never die
We will never find out we survived
And so we were to ride the road
Every night to drive our speakers
Countdown waiting to explode
Until we had it at our fingers
We are the kings of Nova Scotia