Lyrics

The Last Dictator to the station crept In tattered clothes he lay down and wept Shook his fists at all the world and hissed "Is this it? Is this it? My farewell delegation These few trees This station that is no station That is left, that is mine I could have saved you all You gave me so little time" Well, the Angels who'd hung around And dreamed their dreams For eternity they'd schemed their schemes Awoke and said, "Dick, we understand you to the letter But you could have it like it was before, only better" "Yes, I'd like that - I'd try again But will you make them bow and honor my name?" "Oh yeah, by comparison the last time will seem rather tame" "We'll set you up in the desert In a discotheque called Paradis, that's French for paradise Like an immovable spot Rest now, you've had a rough trot" The Last Dictator woke from where he'd been In a mood that was mean, he related the dream "I'm in a very bad mood I had a very bad dream What do you think these things mean?" "I dreamed of an ice machine In the dream I dragged the machine To the remotest ends of the world From one hot spot to the next The spots being populated entirely by brown skinned babies Who, while seemingly very young, were in fact very old These beautiful and innocent children With their knowing eyes and their wild and neurotic dances Did not want my ice machine" "Yes, yes," said the Angels, "and were you displeased?" "I was - they'd best beware, they'd best take care" Well, the Angels who'd hung around and dreamed their dreams For eternity they'd schemed their schemes Clapped and said, "Dick, you are the one - you are" "Yes, I am" "Yes, you are" "Yes, I am" "Yes, you are" "Yes, I am" "Yes, you are"