Tekst:
Decemberists The Castaways And Cutouts

your overalls After the wrecking ball Bereft you of house and home And left you with sweet fuck-all So we got in your car With our kickabout hearts And

back to you Take this palm, follow the lines here are written And script out the rest of your life And feel your fingers falling slack and all folding

and the corners Even though my work is unparalleled They never seemed to meet This structure fell about our feet And we were free to go And try one, and

my home If only summer rain would fall On the houses and the boulevards And the side walk bagatelles It's like a dream With the roar of cars And the

Such a filthy dimming shine The way you kick and scream, kick and scream And what do we with ten baby shoes A kit bag full of marbles And broken billiard

street And if you listen you can hear her weeping, She's weeping, cause the gentlemen are calling And the snow is softly falling on her petticoats. And

my house And how the green grows there And we've got special boots To beat the path to my house And it's careful and it's careful when I'm there And

angles and the corners Even though my work is unparalleled They never seemed to meet This structure fell about our feet And we were free to go And try one, and

youth and beauty brigade We're lining up the light-loafere'd And the bored bench warmers Castaways and cutouts, fill it up Come join the youth and beauty