The volunteers come for your prayers
And some souvenirs,
With ivory skin and boycott lessons
Year after year.
[Chorus]
Well I'm tracing your face up in the space of the bottom bunk,
Oh Cordova.
Where I cried and I cried,
I knew I was trading on things that I didn't have,
The things that I didn't have.
Now you come to me
With revolution's infidelity,
With blacklisted friends and Tupperware kin,
And your big history.
[Chorus]
I memorize the lullabies
Of dwindling lives.
The lay of the land, the touch of each hand
We lose by and by.
[Chorus]