here tongue told of scrambled eggs cigarettes not her notebook full of i just heavent yets she greats me in the morning with listerine kisses her game genie daddy grants her endless wishes jesus took a shower down venice beach washin off the salt from the waves her daddys in the church underneath a flag you know what they say god country grave skyscrapers cover up the harvest moon feeling like a seed cast on stone a night so coldm it was itchin it was itchin it aint just the roots that wont leave her alone no its not the girl and its not the war it aint the general or his orders its not the getting lost or the cost or the fate its the thought you hate would take it all back but its no good i would take it all back if i could