The salvation brigade was such a dwarf species
Committed to form, stately cultivation
Perpetuate ideas of midsummer philosophers
Sit on the porch, criticize each other
Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun
Pink lemonade was poured into the ashes
Kept them in line, feeding off the weather
Intensify their fears while plotting with the regulars
Hanging around, yeah, talking to their brothers
Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun
Obedient walls of trumpets for a backdrop
Loosely arranged, but aiming toward the center
Subtle ricochets, glancing off the glassware
Lime on the side, expressing it's displeasure
Wilting in the sun, wilting in the sun
Wilting in the sun, in the sun, in the sun
