The Ghosts of Alexandria

He was the poster child of miserable

He was in love with colored boy

No chance for hope in a land of servitude

And now the ghosts of Alexandria

Hang in the halls like the boys on the oak

To remind us that we're only 13 knots away

From repeating our mistakes

No one can see on the inside

No one can hear on the outside

No one will speak the name to blame

The dead sing: "It's not over."

She was the poster child of ritual

She was in love with the U.S.A

She was from some place but she could not tell us where

And now the ghosts of Alexandria

Labor the field like amber waves of grain

To remind us that we are only a minimum wage away

A bowl of rice a day

From repeating our mistakes

It's not over

No one can see on the inside

No one can hear on the outside

No one will speak the name to blame

The dead sing

And we watched the summer turn to the autumn of glory