I haven't read the elements of style
But of course I heard about the war
The raging of the storm, the perpetual darkness
I remember the promises whispered in your ear

They shipped you away to that damn island
Lined up the queue but not your height
You read those sad, realist novels
The fashion of despair, the wicked youth

Magnolia's fine seven feet in the ground
Stick up your scared ostrich head
You can live your life with a full fucking breath

With out that smoke and melancholy

Did they get you
Get you
Get you
With that sulk?
 
Did they get you
Get you
Get you
With that sulk?

So friends, is this what keeps us in bondage?
This inability to throw away these robes in the dumps?

We've only tasted
Yet to achieve
Stand there like an invitation
Stand there like your invitation