Like a red state's Baptist fervour
Like a small town's unsolved murder
Some secrets are just best resting in the tombs of buried thought-slums
As for Texas, doughnuts only, you cannot find bagels here
And I'll reserve my highest Hosannas
For the communion song that served with light beer
And a chorus that inspires the score played in my myth-steeped years
There's a hole you shan't fall into
Sang the church choir's young male leads
In our home team's jersey robes sewn by our sisters, moms and nieces
This you gave us, although worthless, fed five decades' dormant hustle
In result, his life was rubbish
Celebrated?
Yes, but rubbish
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
