If the world were a sewer
A nun with a ruler
The children full of venom
The seed of Agamemnon
Would you still love me and hold me close?
In dark 11th hours
Like filthy fluid newborns
We cried 'til it tasted sour
And hoped for purty blooming flowers
Under the shade of Agamemnon's ghost
In the mornings after
Like blackened 'Tucky miners
In filthy fluid entrails
We shuffled to a diner
And knew the trick on Agamemnon's bones
Staring at the bacon
The pregnant fryer cracklin'
You circled on a vision
All of our Earthly doings
And we knew the hit on Agamemnon's own
Egad! The reach of Agamemnon's ghost