We never tired
Stood and fought the EF-10 chains and meadows
We cut a sector and the district punched us out
Confuse the choir
Bought a shotgun which we trained on Tuscaloosa
And opened fire 'cause we were born into a cult
Let the trembling palm of my hand
And the backhanded compliments land on your tan lines
Oh, your tan lines flow out
Like petroleum caught in our glands
All our teeth falling out, oh my God
Your tan lines
Oh, your tan lines
Post-Chorus
I was feeling worse
Declaring amnesty, keeping heads together
Asylum seekers in a laundromat at night
We're holding court
Kept a catchment on display against the weather
A subtle ploy to keep the deal intact at the US rate
Let the trembling palm of my hand
And the backhanded compliments stand on your landmines
Oh, your landmines glow out
Like petroleum caught in our glands
All our teeth falling out, oh my God
Your tan lines
Oh, your tan lines
Post-Chorus
Outro
Oh, your tan lines glow
(x12)