North of North Dakota
just across the borderline
there lies a little town there
which I guess you could call mine
It's where I was born
it's probably where I'll die
I just keep hanging around
I don't know why
It was all just tall grass
a couple centuries ago
There were travelling Natives
tracking the buffalo
My forefathers came here
and they broke all this land
They made nature do the bidding
for modern man
They built their houses and their churches
and their schools and their sheds and their barns
They planted their fields
with wheat and oats and corn
The soil was fertile
and they took all they could
They thought they had God's blessing
they thought God was good
Well, the New World order
spread like a prairie fire
They hung the telephone poles
like clothes from the telephone wires
First came the gravel, then the ties
then the railroad tracks
and then came the highways
Now they're starting to crack
When it's all creeping Charlie
and redroot pigweed
and the grass grows back
and it all goes to seed
and our story's over
and we have had our day
and all that's left is the wind
what will it say?
credits
from Anthropology,
released December 31, 2015
Derek Allard • drums
Paul Bergman • bass, drums, guitar, keyboard,
omnichord, organ pedals, piano, voice
Jon Guenter • viola
Amy Loewen • voice
William J Western • pedal steel guitar
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