Nothing for Him Left to Claim

. . . And the war was coming.
The earth was shaking.
And there was no more room
In the garden of Allah.

"Today I made an appearance downtown.
I am an expert witness, because I say I am.
And I said, 'Gentlemen . . . and I use that word loosely . . .
I will testify for you.
I'm a gun for hire, I'm a saint, I'm a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth,
Just data to be manipulated.
I can get you any result you like.
What's it worth to ya?
Because there is no wrong, there is no right.
And I sleep very well at night.
No shame, no solution,
No remorse, no retribution.
Just people selling t-shirts.
Just opportunity to participate in the pathetic little circus.
And winning, winning, winning."

It was a pretty big year for predators.
The marketplace was on a roll.
And the land of opportunity
Spawned a whole new breed of men without souls.
This year, notoriety got all confused with fame,
And the devil is downhearted
Because there's nothing left for him to claim. . . .

"The Garden of Allah"
Don Henley, Stan Lynch, John Corey, and Paul Gurian
(c) 1995