We're in this big place now
And I gaze up at the nostrils of the sandstone savior
With red vinyl seats and we stick by each other and to those seats
But your body is your temple God tells us so
With dark suits and well cropped hair
God-awful bacon and cheese sandwich
And it's ok to have more than one wife
At least not for a couple of weeks
Telling me that black people are inferior
Sold to me by a hunchback silly bastard old woman
And both my siblings are walkin' on those eggshells
It's kind of like one half of an blue plastic Easter eggshell
As I sip luke-warm Sprite from a tin can
In this part of the country
In the back seat of a '67 Buick station wagon
So drink up your milk and reap what you sow
'Cause I sure can and I'm only 5 years old
And wonder if it can smell all this bullshit
Who is probably the only person with good sense
I stand before a statue of Jesus that is far too big
Our mother made for thirteen days straight in the August heat
I mold the cheese and bacon sandwich into a ball in my hand
I'm riding between my brother and sister
We're Mormons too have been since '72
As I soon will learn how to do myself
We've been eating cheese and bacon sandwiches
And lights up the room and I hear all these male voices
I still don't know what to do with this
And there's a hole in the top where the sun cuts through
A hundred miles back
Battalions of bicycling bachelors
It kind of reminds me of play dough
And has held these folks hostage for so, so long
And stuff it between the red vinyl seats no one will find it
I look around to see who is watchin'
And as the dry, dry breath of the Utah sun warms me
They play their quiet silly games with their peashooters
