Last night I dreamt of you, Abbie Hoffman peddling your books,
  I gave five bucks to you, the other kids just gave you dirty looks.
  I said ";I'm sorry it didn't work out quite the way you planned.";
  You said, ";That's silly boy, the revolution is at hand.";
  
  And if you got a ten spot brother, I got a dime,
  These are desperate, desperate times.
  
  Last night I dreamt of you, Pepe Lopez strung out on a stage,
  It don't even look like you, smiling like sawed-off twenty gauge.
  I still remember the Telecaster down around your knees,
  It's late November and I think I smell tequila on the breeze.
  
  And if you got the Cuervo honey, I got the lime,
  These are desperate, desperate times.
  And if you got the shotgun honey, I got the crime,
  These are desperate, desperate times.