And I don't wanna go to war
And I don't wanna have to fight
'Cuz I don't wanna be right
I don't wanna be right
So swerve a little in the road
The curve will take your cruise control
Or you could hit the ghost pine
I can see the headline
"Poor Tree, Man Died"
Or maybe we move slow
Or we don't even go?
Or maybe we should fight
Somewhere in a field at night
Straw man coming for the scarecrow
Straw man coming for the scarecrow
"No Brains in the Meadow"
I was amenable
But this is petro-chemical
So now I need relief
You're so ethereal
It's so immaterial
It beggars some belief (yeah)
"No Change, Yes Grief"
Reading aloud your chapter and verse
It's got me so beat down
That I might order a hearse
I got no room and I feel all alone
Still it feels like you could eat me out of house and home
In my headline
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