Tekster: Mountain Goats, The. Bring Our Curses Home.

Stray shards of vinyl siding
Hit the windshield coming down
On a gridlocked freeway
Headed for Houston out of town

We were sad to see it sinking,
Up on the Jumbo-Tron
Balconies in higher places
Gone, gone, gone

Young Romans at the city wall,
Scavenging for scraps
Riding out the amnesia,
Filling in the gaps

Grab hold of my hammer,
Try to bring down the SuperDome
On that rainy day
When I bring my curses home

Water floods the pharmacy,
People sliding down the aisle
Emerging into the moonlit night,
All smiles, all smiles

Wished I was down there with them,
Reaching for that third rail
Saw them on the TV though,
As they herded them down to jail

That night someone brought some shoes in
From Los Angeles or Portland I forget
Mad scramble for the boxes
Everything got wet

Wingless, broken insects
Trapped in honeycomb
On that wasteful day
When I bring my curses home