Lyrics

When the peach tree is sagging/ from the weight of its jewel/ and the earth beneath is bragging/ bout its gravitational pull/ and steals gifts sent to heaven/ and crashes them into itself/ and all seems well like its thursday the 12th/ and you can't keep yourself from drifting/ and the calendar pages keep on lifitng.

Power Powerful. Our our people. travelling out the world/ travelling through speakers.

All men are mothmen/ some of em Lunas/ Stoked on Crianza soaked slabs of tuna/ drawn to a chapel light/ a sharpened steeple/ dancing to death tolls/ moth men are people/ steak knives cut gum lines/ that bloody the steak/ hemlines, oh hemlines/ my first mistake.

Waltzes yes waltzes/ the devil's music/ its accordianed banshees he taught how to us it./ The wood peels/ the woodwind squeels/ its harmony blinded/ The railspikes are rusted/ but we never minded.

Power Powerful. Our our people.