Rebel Horns - Frog Eyes

Oh: listening to Sunday Shoals

Weed up from the water

Missionaries fiddle while they baptize the horizon

Chaos if they falter

Oh, Donna was offended by the cartographic vessels

That mirrored the pain of her daughter

Oh, Holly was dead from the cartographic lead

That poisoned the veins of her daughter

And the patriarch will send his children to the fens

And the stinking swamplands will surrender

Patience in her Sunday clothes

We ate the witch’s hat

We ate the witch’s pills

And offerings and the offerings and the semblance of the offerings

Paid for with a baseball bat, paid for with a baseball bat

Paid for with a baseball bat

Reaction: when they come.

And when they come, and when they go

Reaction when they come, they will violate their sun

And tear apart their daughters and make witches of their sons

You ain’t nothing at all!

I’m never going to be a-waiting for that man