Transmaniacon MC
With satan's hog no pig at all,
and the weather getting dry,
We'll head south from Altamont
in a cold-blooded travel trance.

So clear the road my bully boys
and let some thunder pass.
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives,
We're transmaniacon MC.

Behind the pantry, behind the tree,
the ghouls adopt that child
Whose name resounds forever,
whose name resounds on terror.

And I'm no fool to call that hog,
cause man I remember
Those who did resign their souls
To transmaniacon MC.

And surely we did offer up,
behind that stage at dawn,
Beers and barracuda,
reds and monocaine.

Pure nectar of antipathy,
behind that stage at dawn,
To those who would resign their souls
To transmaniacon MC.

Cry the cable, cry the word,
unknown terror's here.
And won't you try this tasty snack,
behind the scenes, or but the back.

Which was the stage at Altamont,
my humble boys of listless power:
We're pain, we're steel, a plot of knives,
We're transmaniacon MC.

on Blue Oyster Cult, 1972