Tekster: Fair To Midland. Orphan Anthem '86.

We're gone but not better.
A lighted match can burn the cabin down he built.
It's not long but it matters.
Your suit and tie are much too tight in Farmersville.

My daughter's a goldmine, combing the hair of the white waves.
A fountain of saphires under the bridges of Utah.
Instilled in us ethics not by god, but by our choice.
I can't even imagine, but i can see it.

Tell them all to chop me off with left handed scissors rusting when you're touched.
On marble covered mountains, you're the brimstone

When surrounded by comfort cotton floors are of no use.
We see in our forecast what we lack in our pockets.
Encompassed by standards and we give ourselves all the credit.
I can't put my finger on it, but i can see it.

Tell them all to chalk me out with oval arms and hopscotch eyelids.
On marble covered mountains, you're my cargo