Serpent Mound (Great Plains, 1984, lyrics by Ron House)

Paris in the street, where the books and barricades meet.
The parking’s kind of hard, and I hope they don’t tow may car.
To see time perform, you’ve got to leave the barn where you were born.
Lose some teeth, and mumble free, and the classroom bell will surely ring.

All the lies, as advertised, die now.
But the rumor of it all’s still a long distance call.

I remember the last time I ever saw it.
I was standing on the pitcher’s mound.
There was no one else around, and the diamond spun around. And I left with the wind…

A movement in retreat, in dusty foothills five people meet. There’s a story to relay, but things don’t happen in the proper way.
They take the trouble found, they feel their feet dig into the ground.
The savior needs a shave, but there’s too much blood and it’s a brand new day.

All the lies, as advertised, die now.
But the rumor of it all’s still a long distance call.

The body’s shaking free, it’s finally feeling the way it should be.
I hope you feel it too, there’s still so much that we can do.

All the lies, as advertised, die now.
But the rumor of it all’s still a long distance call.

I remember the first time I ever saw it.
I was standing on the serpent mound.
There was no one else around. Yeah, they’d all gone underground.
And I left with the wind…