Music by Doug Snodgrass

Dusted men in well-made beds
With technicolor peepshow eyes
Looking for the perfect waitress
Telling California lies
The wife’s at home she’s in the closet
Used to be a circus star
Wearing bullet-proof mascara
Dries her tears with caviar
Classroom on the edge of town
A drunk mortician casts her spell
Wearing love like Christmas morning
True believers rot in hell
Busted man the iron lung
Showing off his battle scar
In the graveyard he’s a dancer
In the bedroom she’s a star
Greets the dawn with cocaine vision
Yesterday was fireproof
Now he’s climbing Jacob’s ladder
To the noose that’s on the roof