Tekst piosenki
Slow to marry, swift to die
We leave disasters where they lie
I know these lines look crooked on paper
But I swear I got it straight in my head
And if you’re looking for somebody to blame
I recommend the dead, I recommend the dead
Cause they never answer back
Skinny dipping in the lake
I got the itch, I drank the wake
Could somebody please hand me a towel?
And now we’re up on molehill mountain
Scraping coins out of the fountain
With a retinue of dirty old young, young men again
But when I get back from Nashville
I’m renting a room in the loyalty building
I’m sure that the prospects are sound
In the event of calamitous circumstance
Or great good fortune
There must be a reason, there must be a plan
A palace in receivership
A jester with a busted lip
A catalogue of crooked answers
We’ve all heard about the rapist nun
She pulled a switch on everyone
The altar boys are not having fun
And the papacy is drawing up the papers behind closed doors
But in the meanwhile
I’m renting a room in the loyalty building
I’m sure that the prospects are sound
In the event of calamitous circumstance
Or great good fortune
There must be a reason, there must be a plan
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