Foals in winter coats

White girls of the north

File past, one, five, and one

They are the fabled lambs of Sunday ham

The EHS norm

And they could float above the grass

In circles if they tried

A latent power I know they hide

To keep some hope alive

That a girl like I could ever try

Could ever try

So we just skirt the hallway sides

A phantom and a fly

Follow the lines and wonder why

There's no connection

A week of rolling eyes

And cheap shots from the tribe

And we're off to Nemarca's porch again

Another afternoon of the goat-head tunes

And pilfered booze

We wander through her momma's house

The milk from a window lights

Family portrait, circa '95

This is that foreign land with the sprayed-on tans

And it all feels fine

Be it silk or slime

So when they tap our Monday heads

Two zombies walk in our stead

This town seems hardly worth the time

And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme

Too far along in our climb

Stepping over what now towers to the sky

With no connection

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

So when they tap our Sunday heads

Two zombies walk in our stead

This town seems hardly worth the time

And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme

Too far along in our crime

Stepping over what now towers to the sky

With no connection

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh