Story Behind the Song
FIRST OFF: THE "BUSTED SPEAKERS" SOUND, PARTICULARLY IN THE LEAD, IS DELIBERATE. DO NOT ADJUST YOUR SET!
Lyrics
Sittin' on the back porch, sippin' home-made wine
Hangin' on a pitch-fork, its a well-worn triple-tine
Radio is playin', dogs begin to whine
Somebody's sayin' this is just like the last time
Waitin' for the Aliens, waitin' for the Aliens, to come
Out in the desert, on the Moon-washed sand
Gin bottle in the one, and a gun in the other hand
Hangin' on for dear life, makin' one last stand
Takin' one last chance to dance, dancin' like a monkey-man
Waitin' for the Aliens, waitin' for the Aliens, to come
Down in the Yucatan, near the turquoise waves
On a bone-white beach, a watcher waits
With a bottle of day-glo, and a Cuban stick
Same day right here every year, goin' on baktun six
Waitin' for the Aliens, waitin' for the Aliens, to come
Waitin' for the Aliens, waitin' for the Aliens, to come, to come
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