Released on September 1998

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This one goes out to all shady transactors, the actors, the hangers-on

Blasting transistors, the TVs, the fisters, the first time French kissers

And the bags that you grabbed like a Crab dude

And the rags you stuffed into your stab wounds

This one goes out to all the white druggie ravers

Hey savior, your soup is on

At the table with the breaking out blondes

There's a gaggle of gutted-out swans

We groped on the green golf course lawn

And we sped through the seventh straight dawn

And we sped through the seventh straight dawn

And we woke up in 7th Street

First we got rushed and then we got crushed

These tiger-striped toughs are much bigger than us

First we got sliced and then we got swarmed

These sabre-toothed thugs are so heavily armed

This one goes out to all the heavyweight hangers-on, the whole fucking entourage

There's pricks in the Peekskills, there's dust in these drum fills and this mouth's got mic skills

Ask the brothels and hostels that housed us, ask the club kids as they crowded around us

This one goes out to all the white druggie ravers that keep putting records on

'Cause they keep putting records out

'Cause the old ones keep wearing out

And I think the same thing that's eating you up on the inside

Is the same guy that's eating you out

(So that's when I said "let's get incredible")

1,2,3

Dude looks like Jesus but sleeveless

Says he's into Rush and reckless chemistry

Met him in Memphis, got him up to Galilee

He says it's easy to see

These kids want something new to get their eyes rollin' back into their dreams

They want a cellophane celebration

A revolution rushing into dancefloor distribution

(From Amherst to North Hampton to Boston)

(From Trenton and Princeton to Camden)

Hennepin and 7th to Stinson

Franklin and Portland to Clinton