Wheat Kings

Sundown in the Paris of the prairies Wheat kings have all treasures buried And all you hear are the rusty breezes Pushing around the weathervane Jesus In Zippo lighter he sees the killer's face Maybe it's someone standing in a killer's place Twenty years for nothing, well, that's nothing new Besides, no one's interested in something you didn't do Wheat kings and pretty things Let's just see what the morning brings There's a dream he dreams where the high school's dead and stark It's a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister Hung with pictures of our parents' prime ministers Wheat kings and pretty things Wait and see what tomorrow brings Late breaking story on the CBC A nation whispers, "We always knew that he'd go free" They add, "You can't be fond of living in the past 'Cause if you are then there's no way that you're going to last" Wheat kings and pretty things Let's just see what tomorrow brings Wheat kings and pretty things Oh, that's what tomorrow brings