Nothing is good there, And the air is bitter. It makes it hard to breathe And harder to make a move. It's been a six month ride Since the end of the war, And men there lie with guns in their arms And twisted cruel grins. Welcome to unspeakable town: A land for raving maniacs Who have the law on their side. Well, I learnt to cope with that. Some are living by hope; Some are hooked on chance; Some are slaves of blood. Well, straight-face me and pull me hard: I'm riding to the land of Nod. I'm riding to the land of Nod. I'm riding to the land of Nod. Can't you hear Abel from above? Nothing is plain there, And nothing's really clear When they came to take a man And finally shot his dog. Five months have been. Yeah, Murderous years For men to live along With them crystal fears. Fine unspeakable streams! The land of raving creeps Is now mine for days and weeks. So I got used to the smell. Some, it gets them down; But some, it horns them well. I can't remember clear The curious music that I hear: Living in the land of Nod. Living in the land of Nod. Living in the land of Nod. And Cain's awaited to say grace.