The salvation brigade was such a dwarf species
Committed to form, stately cultivation
Perpetuate ideas of midsummer philosophers
Sit on the porch, criticize each other

Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun

Pink lemonade was poured into the ashes
Kept them in line, feeding off the weather
Intensify their fears while plotting with the regulars
Hanging around, yeah, talking to their brothers

Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun

Obedient walls of trumpets for a backdrop
Loosely arranged, but aiming toward the center
Subtle ricochets, glancing off the glassware
Lime on the side, expressing it's displeasure

Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun
Wilting in the sun, in the sun, in the sun