Hydrate the youngest with what still remains
It's a bone-dry desert

The mantras you've memorized don't mean a thing
It's a new world order

So pack up the family and vacate the scene
Hit the backroads, gentle

Avoid the expressways and bury your head
Or the crowd will make you
The crowd will make you

We saw our saint appear in stone
She always cries when she's alone
But this one can't make it right
With her tears
She's now a holy site

Question the elders and medicine men
They can see your future

Now that the lighthouse is frozen below
You could use directions

So pack up the family and vacate the scene
Hit the backroads, gentle

Avoid the expressways and bury your head
Or the crowd will make you
The crowd will make you

We made a request to the queen
Her voicemail told us where to call;
A bunker below the coals
Where it's warm
Protected by royal guard

(It's a long, long, haul)

(Thanks to Harris for these lyrics)

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