Lyrics:

Look at the sun go behind the hill
And look at the country through a dollar bill
I can't see the bottom of the hole that we're trying to fill
I think we're in love with your abuse
You got one hand on the driver's wheel, in the other a noose
You can call it whatever you want, I say we call it a truce
Whether it breaks, whether it bends
I don't know where I begin and the madness ends
Last time it happened we said we wouldn't let it happen again
White sand, black horses
White sand, black horses
A gold ring in deep water
Why call it anything but
Greed
Greed
Greed
Greed
I woke up from a bad dream
I was wanted in 11 states for murder it seemed
I was dragging the head of a buffalo through the city streets
White sand, black horses
White sand, black horses
A gold ring in deep water
Why call it anything but
Greed
Greed
Greed
Greed